Unsinkable Glory
by Downtonix
Summary: They had everything in life - except life itself. Titanic means something personal to everyone, but see it from their perspective. Experience their love, feel their fear, and witness their untold stories. How did two unlikely relationships develop on Titanic? Which lover will pay the price? Will a difference between their social classes decide their futures? [full summary inside]
1. The Queen of The Ocean

**Full summary:** _The Titanic meant different things to different people. To Charles and Elsie it meant maintaining their already perfectly friendly relationship... Or maybe something more could happen on 'The Ship of Dreams'? To Robert and Cora the Titanic opened closed doors and brought in new opportunities for improving and fulfilling their marriage. I want to capture how two totally different relationships amidst separate classes progress on the most famous ships in human history. Laugh with them, cry with them and experience romance that you can find only once in a lifetime. So if you love the Titanic and if you love_ _ **Cobert**_ _ & __**Chelsie**_ _then what else can I say... Enjoy the voyage! Set before s1._

 **A/N:** _This is a longer note, but I feel the need to explain some stuff. This is my newest story. Titanic is my forever favorite movie. This is an original fanfiction idea! I've never seen nor read any Titanic/Downton Abbey crossover story. (I'm not even sure if there's any...) I'm basically a_ Titanic _geek. I've always been fascinated and hunted by the story of the ship and her passengers and crew. I'll use some characters from original Titanic movie and I'll use some lines and situations from the movie as well, but I won't focus on their storylines. This is the 1st time I venture with such complex and unexplored characters, so corrections are welcome and I accept every constructive criticism. Charles and Elsie are my new challenge. They slowly intrigued me as the show progressed and I've decided to include them in this story. (Ps. You'll thank me later!)_

 **Dedication:** _This fanfiction is dedicated, of course to all my lovely readers who gave me support and kind words through reviews... But a special dedication goes to 2,200 passengers and crew members on board of_ **R.M.S. Titanic** _. 1,500 lives were taken away by the catastrophic sea and only 700 lived to tell their story. After she sank to the reefs, may the Titanic rest in peace._

 **Disclaimer:** _James Cameron wrote and filmed 'The Titanic' movie. Julian Fellowes wrote and filmed 'Downton Abbey' series, but they can't lay claim to the Titanic ship any more than I can. She belongs to history and memory._

* * *

 **CHAPTER I**

 ** _The Queen of The Ocean_**

 _"...Every luxury they could afford_

 _Was bought and brought up on board_

 _The water was blue, the sun shone bright_

 _How could they know they'd die in a few nights..."_

 _ **10 April 1912**_ _ **: Southampton, England**_

April 10, 1912 dawned bright and clear, as did so many days that spring. The sprawling docks, piers and quays bustled with the regular chaos of a busy seaport. At the White Line's Ocean Dock lay the Titanic, plumes of smoke gently rising from her funnels. Her white upper works gleaming in the sunshine. Her enormous hull overshadowing every other ship in the harbor.

The early April sunshine spread cheerful rays across the docks at Southampton, England, illuminating the swarming people. Bright sparks of morning sunlight glistened on the sea while the world's greatest ship was anchored in the port, waiting to cross the Atlantic Ocean. Fresh black paint shone on the hull, the new decks were shining, and her pristine white paint was nothing less than blinding. Or at least, that was how Elsie Hughes - Mrs. Hughes to most of the world - viewed the most massive ship she had ever seen.

She simply couldn't believe that the Titanic would be her home for five whole days on her maiden voyage to New York City. Elsie also heard that the White Star Line had spared no expense in ensuring the ultimate luxurious experience for first class passengers. The Titanic passengers were a mixture of the world's wealthiest basking in the elegance of first class accommodations and poor immigrants packed into steerage, hoping for a new start.

Elsie could smell the fuel of the ship in her nostrils and feel the pleasant sun rays on her body as she stood in the line for boarding. Every few minutes they'd move slightly closer. It seemed so small of a progression that she didn't notice how far she had gotten until the huge black shadow of Titanic crept across her body. The warming sun's rays became invisible as _the Ship of Dreams_ blocked her fragile body.

"So this is the ship they say is _unsinkable_." Elsie didn't even realize that she had said it out loud. Her voice was like a whisper. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the most familiar and melodic voice she knew.

"It is _unsinkable_! God himself _could not_ sink this ship." Carson's booming bass spoke up. He had been standing by her side the whole time, but she was too occupied thinking about the Titanic that she had taken his presence for granted. Charles and Elsie would board the Titanic as loyal help to their employers and first class passengers, Lord and Lady Grantham, but they would be staying in third class on their way to America. They would be able to be present at the first class activities, providing they didn't participate. "It seems Titanic has already enraptured my friend." He let out a deep chuckle. "But I don't blame you, this ship is..."

"... _Magnificent_!" Elsie finished Charles' sentence. She was surprised at her own words, but she couldn't help herself. The ship's full glory was near impossible to describe. It was indeed the largest ship of its time. They had never seen something so grand and big as this structure that stood right in front of them. She was as large as a mountain and they all stood in her shadow, admiring her beauty with fear in their sparkling eyes. The only thing Elsie could do for now was stare in awe at the Queen of the Ocean.

They noticed that the line moved and so they had to follow, but it was easier said than done. Well, it was easy for Elsie to move forward because she didn't carry any luggage, but Charles... He was carrying his and hers. _This is what happens when you insist on acting a gentleman_. _She's packed like she's going to the end of the world!_ He thought to himself and let out a loud huff. Charles slowly crept forward with Elsie's heavy suitcases. "Was it necessary to pack this much?" Charles puffed, inhaling deeply in need of air.

"For a lady, it's never too much." Elsie gave him a warm smile as she continued to walk smoothly forward, but Charles was stuck behind. Elsie was happy and excited. She had even bought new clothing, because she didn't have to wear the same black dress she was required to wear back in Downton.

" _Never too much..."_ He made a face, mimicking Elsie's girly voice with surprising aptitude. "Anything for a friend, however..." He murmured to himself as he bravely continued carrying all the luggage.

Finally Charles reached Elsie and once again, he allowed the fresh salty air to fill his lungs. They both turned around to look one last time at the beautiful land of Southampton they'd leave behind as they crossed the Atlantic. The village was swarming with people. They stood all around to see the Queen of Ships off on her journey. Elsie looked at her friend. She knew that deep down Charles missed Downton already. He would never admit to missing the abbey, but she could read him like an open book.

"Mr. Carson! Mrs. Hughes!" Cora's soft and familiar voice interrupted their silent farewell to the land they adored so much. Lord and Lady Grantham along with Rosamund and Patrick stood in front of them, wanting to say a few words before boarding.

"We have to part ways here. Robert, Rosamund, Patrick, James and I are going on the other side for first class passengers, but we'll see you soon when we settle into our room. You just have to pass through the security entrance as our entourage and then enter the first class section." Cora's lovable voice seemed to burst with the excitement of seeing her native home again while traveling in such style. "I'm so glad you two decided to join us! It's going to be a memorable experience."

"For sure, milady!" Carson amiably smiled while he memorized all the information and Elsie nodded her head. A joyous smile crept across Cora's face as she waved them goodbye and disappeared in the crowd with Rosamund. A voice spoke from behind, scaring them.

"I feel you Carson." Robert chuckled and gave him a pat on the back. At first Charles didn't understand what was going on, but soon he saw Robert dragging behind him one of Cora's many suitcases. Charles opened his mouth with the intention to speak, but Robert read his thoughts and cut him off. "Don't ask. The poor boy we hired to help us with our luggage couldn't do it all alone so I had to jump in and help."

Carson looked shocked at the prospect of his Lordship exerting himself, and he reached out to take the suticase himself, but Robert waved him away. "Don't bother, Carson old boy. I would've hired someone else, but I need the exercise. Besides, you've got enough to carry yourself."

Robert, Patrick and Charles exchanged ridiculous looks.

" _Women_!" All three of them said in unison and started to chuckle a moment later when they realized what had just happened. Carson received another pat on the back from Robert.

"We'll survive! Well, I hope so! I want to touch land once more before Cora drowns me in the Atlantic for letting her suitcase go missing. " Robert sarcastically whispered to them and with Patrick he disappeared in the crowd, following steps of his wife earlier.

Thick, black smoke rose high into the clouds. Enormous black and yellow funnels made a ear-splitting sound and announced that the Queen was ready for departure. All morning long an endless stream of passengers and crew had strode up the gangways and vanished into the bowels of the ship.

 _... And they were next ..._

One last time Elsie heard her heels hit the earth as she made contact with the dirty ground beneath her and a moment later she was standing on the gangway, ready to enter the Titanic. A rush of adrenaline ran through her veins. She was so excited that she couldn't believe herself. In years she hadn't felt like this... so young, so lively. And she was so glad that she accepted the tickets and that she persuaded Charles to join her on this magical voyage. _It would be so boring without him, wouldn't it?_ Elsie looked down and saw the angry sea bumping at the walls of the dock, creating white foam. She could feel little drops on her skin as the wind blew the spray from the sea in her direction. _So relaxing and refreshing... And this is going to last for five long days..._ She smiled at her own thoughts.

Elsie and Charles had been warned that all the passengers traveling as entourage, second or third class had to pass through mandatory security before boarding any White Star liner. They would search them just to make sure they wouldn't bring any harmful things into the ship. Elsie was still hoping that perhaps this wasn't true and that she might be permitted to board untouched. Her hopes immediately sank when she saw a pair of stuffy-looking uniformed men who stood on the Titanic gates, searching the passengers.

"Good morning!" One of the guards said as Elsie and Charles stood in front of them. "May I get your tickets?" The younger guard asked and extended his hand, demanding the tickets.

"One moment..." Elsie's sweet voice broke the tension as she searched for them in her lilac purse. "Here." She placed them in his palms. Elsie had to admit that even the Titanic's tickets looked extraordinary.

"Your names please?" While one man was checking the tickets, another held the list in his hands.

"Charles Carson and Elsie Hughes." She muttered, looking at the two young men opposite her. _Why so serious?_ She thought to herself.

"Checked! Checked!" Both guards exchanged looks. "Everything is alright, now do you have anything to report in your luggage?" One man looked at Carson pointedly.

"No, we do not." He shook his head in denial.

"Wonderful... Now please separate your hands." The guard told Charles and started searching him. Charles obeyed, removing his coat.

While one guard was talking to Charles, another one talked to Elsie. "I'll have to search you ma'am."

She just nodded and followed his instructions. There was nothing she could do about it. After a few seconds, Elsie felt unfamiliar, cold hands on her shoulders. Later they slowly moved down until they reached her waist. _This is just uncomfortable_ , Elsie thought, shooting an irritated look at Charles.

Charles just watched how a strange man touched his friend and she wasn't comfortable at all. Her facial expression said it all. "Is this necessary?" Carson asked. His eyes were carefully following the guard's hands. He didn't care about himself, but about Elsie. Seeing her uncomfortable and irritated was something he couldn't stand... and a strange man was causing that feelings!

"This is the procedure sir." Finally, guard removed his hands from Elsie and stood up.

"Clear!" Both guards said in unison. "Welcome to the Titanic." The two young men moved and gave them space to enter the Ship of Dreams. Elsie adjusted her hat and Charles picked up their suitcases. They just exchanged satisfied looks and boarded the ship they'd never forget!

"Thank you for caring!" Elsie looked at him timidly and patted his shoulder. "What about... We go on the deck and wave goodbye to the people!" She excitedly exclaimed, sharing her thoughts with him.

"But we... Lord and Lady ..." Elsie cut him off.

"For once we can break the rules, can't we?" She grinned at him and headed upstairs to the deck.

The deck was full of people who were sailing to America for various reasons. Some of them to start a new life, some to get rich, some to find a true love, and some simply to have fun. Once she was on the deck Elsie saw many people from every classes claiming a spot by the railings.

Elsie knew that no one looked highly at you unless you were in first class. She didn't worry though. They would still spend a large amount of time in first class assisting Lord and Lady Grantham. Third class meant rats and first class meant good food and dancing. She loved the Titanic!

They both found some space and leaned on the railing of the ship. Elsie turned her face to Charles who stood next to her, enjoying the view. She felt the spring breeze on her face. "She's the grandest." The Titanic wasn't the grandest because of all the people on it nor its size. She was the grandest because she was the ship that was going to get them out. She was going to change their lives. Elsie smiled, feeling hope clinging to her lips like the salt in the air. "The grandest in the world."

A sudden blast of steam from the Titanic smokestacks indicated that the Queen was ready to pull away from the shore and head to Cherbourg, France to pick up more passengers.

An excited buzz went up from the people gathered on the deck as they realized that this was it, they were really leaving. Elsie Hughes gave a little squeak and grabbed Charles by the arm in pure excitement.

They both raised their hands and waved to the people they'd never met. They waved to their home, their England, their Europe. They left everything and everyone they loved in Downton. Elsie leaned on the rail and saw hundreds of people below them, yelling their goodbyes loudly. She smiled in amusement, cupping her hands around her mouth and she hollered. "Goodbye!"

Confused Charles turned to face her. "You know somebody?"

"Of course not. That's not the point." Elsie briefly looked at him and continued. She felt free. "Goodbye! Goodbye! I'll miss you!" She giggled at her own wildness.

In a rare act of impropriety, Charles joined in. "See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya!" He shouted loudly at the tiny figures around the dock.

"Since when do you talk like this?" Elsie laughed and raised her eyebrows at him.

"Didn't you say that we can break some rules?" He said, grinning from ear to ear.

The crowd of cheering well-wishers waved heartily as a black wall of metal moved past them. There was a rumble of engines and the sound of churning water and suddenly they were in motion. Elsie gripped Charles's hand even tighter and told herself that the prickling behind her eyes was being caused by the wind.

Their home was gone and they hoped they'd see it again. Elsie turned around, keeping the tears bottled on the inside. Her friends and her home was behind her now and she looked forward. Everything that mattered to her at that very moment was right beside her and in front of her, embodied in a glory of steel and iron. Elsie clenched her jaw and fixed her eyes forward at the sea. She didn't want to look back.

* * *

"Enjoy your voyage!" The young boy with their luggage said with a huge smile as he left the room, leaving Cora and Robert alone.

"We certainly will." Cora's smile crept across her face. Even for a usually calm and demure lady she was incredibly excited. Perhaps because she would see her family again, perhaps she would soon be standing on American ground, perhaps she would see the Statue of Liberty, or perhaps it was simply because of the Titanic.

"Oh my..." Cora let go of her husband's arm. "This is... " She was out of words. Cora walked and strolled around the room. Although she didn't want it to show, she was stunned. The room was painted in the most beautiful shades of gold and silver with a little bit of red. The fireplace looked marvelous and furniture was stunning with the rest of the room. Upon closer examination she discovered that the fireplace was an electric heater, but it looked grand nonetheless.

"Glad you like it." He smiled, looking at his magnificent wife who stood in awe in the middle of the enormous room. A few rebellious locks fell down from their pins and danced around her neck when she turned her head in excitement.

"Like it? I _love_ it." Cora squealed and pulled the doorknob, revealing another two rooms connected to their huge master bedroom.

She finally stepped inside the bathroom and Cora felt warm breath leaving her chest while viewing an unbelievable interior. Their washroom was lavish. Even for Lady Grantham who since always had every luxury she could wish for in life, thisleft her speechless... And Cora was only looking at the bathroom, she couldn't even imagine how exquisite the rest of the ship would look. Cora saw a very fancy bathtub and an almost endless variety of soaps on the counter.

"We have one bedroom, a parlor suite and a private bathroom." She softly gasped after seeing another two rooms. "This probably costed a fortune."

"And..." Robert gently took her hand and they moved on the other side of their bedroom. Robert slowly pulled open the drapes as golden sunlight lit up their room. He opened the door and took Cora outside.

"Private promenade deck..." Cora let out a loud gasp as she walked around, looking at beautiful tropical plants that covered the ground and she saw ivy climbing up the wall. "Heavens!" Cora jaw almost dropped open.

"We can have breakfast here." He came beside her and gently put his hands on her tiny waist, pulling her closer to him.

"I can't wait!" Cora turned around and looked at her husband's blue eyes. Their eyes met and heavens collided with earth. She pulled his face and crushed her cherry lips on his. Their lips moved in a perfect rhythm, closing them away from the world. Cora had her eyes closed and she was lost in paradise. The taste of his lips on hers and smell of his scent in her nostrils made her want him even more.

"Or... we can have breakfast right now." Robert maliciously smiled against her lips, pushing her inside their bedroom.

"Hmm... more like lunch..." She murmured between his kisses as her limber fingers rounded Robert's shoulders and slipped under his suit jacket. Once inside Cora freed him from that useless piece of clothing, tossing it on the armchair nearby the fireplace. Cora slipped out of her heels and threw them beside their enormous bed.

"Then double..." Robert said and raised his eyebrows at her. His hands were everywhere on her gorgeous body and she moaned at every touch. _How could she possibly resist?_

"What's gotten into you?" Cora giggled, very much surprised at his suddenness. Her fingers slid down his chest and found his buttons. She slowly unbuttoned one... then another... and another. Cora knew what she was doing, but she was wickedly testing him and his patience.

"Just my beautiful wife. That's all." He was trying hard to unbutton her buttons as well, but her dress was far worse than his shirt. Robert never understood its purpose. _Why did they make it so difficult to take off?_ No, they didn't have time for that. He would never remove her dress and than that devious corset she wore under it.

"We don't have time..." They were invited to lunch today with some important people and Rosamund was supposed to come any minute to pick them up. Cora unbuttoned his shirt, but she was unable to threw it away when she felt his strong arms around her waist. He was pushing her dress up her thighs, deciding it was too difficult to take it off. She hurriedly entangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him with her on the bed.

Robert collapsed on her body, burying his head in the crook of her neck, smelling her delicious perfume. His hands were rumbling under her dress, pushing it up her waist. He was kissing her jaw until he reached her mouth, but something was standing on his way to capture her lips.

Cora brought up her hand and placed it between them, blocking their kiss. "Did you lock the door?" She glanced at him furtively, her eyes wide.

"Of course I did!" Robert uncertainly said, thinking about it for a second, but he didn't remeber or care at that very moment. He just wanted Cora.

The doorknob of their room slowly turned and the luxurious, first class doors opened wide, delivering a proper look of the Crawley bedroom to the guest.

"Brother." Rosamund gently said.. Her gaze was fixed on her bracelet, which had come slightly loose. "Are you two re..." She lifted her head and her emerald eyes opened wide, focusing on the couple right in front of her. Her brother was on top of Cora. His white shirt was careless unbuttoned and his hair messy. Thank Lord was still wearing his trousers and Cora... Rosamund didn't even dare to look more. She covered her eyes with her hands, trying hard to forget what she just saw.

When Cora heard Rosamund's voice echoing through their bedroom, she put her hands on Robert's chest and with all her force she pushed him off of her, breaking their kissing. He rolled on the other side of the bed and fell down onto the floor. A painful groan was the last thing Cora heard from him.

Almost immediately, Cora started pulling her dress back down and she grabbed the blanket and covered her body. Her large blue eyes became even bigger while she stared over at Rosamund who stood a few meters ahead.

"For heaven's sake, _already?!_ " Rosamund raised her voice at the couple. She was really surprised at the view she found when she entered their bedroom. "Thank God I came while you two still have some clothes on!"

"Well..." Cora sheepishly smiled and her eyebrows furrowed. Her face grew red at every word Rosamund said. This kind of embarrassment Cora had never experienced before.

"I'm waiting just outside... You two come when you're... done with whatever you've already started..." Rosamund shook her head in disbelief and vanished from their views.

"Robert are you alright?" Cora stared into space, her cheeks still flushed red from embarrassment and her heart pounding like crazy. She thought it might explode inside her chest.

"I landed on your _heels_!" His voice crackleded in the silence.

She angrily grabbed a silky pillow that was beside her and tossed it on Robert that still laid behind the bed. He was still cursing about her heels.

"You said you locked the door, didn't you?!" Cora let out a loud irritated huff and rose from her bed, adjusting her dress and hair. Robert just stayed on the floor and he threw up his hands in defense. Such a good opportunity was wasted and just because _he_ forgot to lock the door.

"We'll never forget this voyage, won't we?" Robert questioned his wife while he still resting somewhere behind that enormous bed.

"Oh, we certainly won't... and neither will Rosamund!" Cora sarcastically said, but the corners of her lips curled into a small smile.

" _Paradise_..." Robert made a face and disappointedly signed with still no intention of getting up. He gazed over at Cora who sat on the bed, pulling on her gloves. She was almost already ready. The creamy dress he wanted to toss away was still on her delicate body. The only thing that was missing were her heels.

"Here you go darling." Robert suspiciously looked at that evil pair of shoes and handed them to Cora. He couldn't believe that he thought this would be a boring voyage. He thought that this horrible journey to America on legendary unsinkable ship, the Titanic, would be nothing special. Robert had no intention of being a happy camper, but it seemed that fate had other plans.

Robert was sure that to most people the Titanic would be a dream come true if only they were given the opportunity to ride on its maiden voyage, but he had seen it as nothing more than a metal cage to drag him back to America.

Robert couldn't believe how wrong he was. He couldn't believe that he thought it would be boring. And he never thought that he would _maybe_ love America after this journey.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _Well, how did you like it? It was a long chapter because I wanted to explain everything... But moving on, I love_ _reviews_ _. So, to make this interesting (and just because I_ _love_ _to torture you) I'm not going to update another chapter until you tell me your thoughts! I really want to hear them. So, unless you want to stay up all night for the rest of your life wondering what's going to happen, please R &R! That would make me one happy camper just like Robert! You know what they say, review and get a __preview_ _._


	2. Destiny

_Thank you so much for the reviews, alerts and favorites. I smiled so wide at every single one. I love you guys *hugs*. well, I hope you like this next chapter. I don't mind any constructive criticism._

 _And thank you dear Gretchie for completing, correcting and editing this chapter. You're the best!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER II**

 ** _Destiny_**

 _"... Invincible she was said to be  
And after a titan she was named  
But when she sank in the deep blue sea  
For giving her that name they were ashamed..."_

 _ **10 April 1912;**_ **_Cherbourg, France_**

Titanic was painted against a light, pre-sunset sky. She was lit up like a floating palace, and her thousands of portholes reflected off the calm harbour waters. The 150 foot tender Nomadic floated alongside, looking like a rowboat compared to the giant. The lights of the Cherbourg harbour completed the beautiful postcard image.

"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all of history..." Said Mr. Ismay, explaining the origin of the Titanic. Ismay was seated with Cora, Robert, Rosamund, Cal, Rose, Ruth, and Thomas Andrews in the Palm Court, a beautiful room with high arched windows overlooking the sky.

"Lady Grantham." Said a handsome Irish gentlemen who sat right beside her, catching Cora's attention. "How do you like our luxurious apartments?" Mr. Andrews continued.

"They're breathtakingly beautiful. Just splendid." Cora sheepishly smiled, recalling what had happened earlier that day in their bedroom. "We're really looking forward to spending more time there." She eyed Robert and carefully put her palm over his on the dining table.

"I'm sure you are." Spoke a voice opposite them. "This voyage will be terrific fun, won't it Cora?" Rosamund sarcastically said, trying hard not to laugh.

"Of course..." Cora pressed her cherry lips in a tight line and stared at her plate, hoping that Rosamund's comment wouldn't draw any more attention.

"Anyways..." Robert flashed Rosamund an embarrassed look before turning his head to Mr. Andrews. "Who came up with the name _Titanic_?"

"Actually Mr. Ismay did. He wanted to..." He was cut off by a disagreement on the other side of the couch.

"You know I don't like that." Ruth said annoyingly, looking at her daughter who had just lit up a cigarette. It seemed that Rose didn't care at all about her mother's opinion.

"She knows..." Her fiancé Cal took the cigarette and stubbed it out.

By Rose's facial expression Cora could already see how sad and frustrated that young lady was. There was no romance or any passionate emotions at all between Rose and her fiancé. Well, at least not the same kind she and Robert had.

"Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury... and safety-" Mr. Ismay spoke up, but was cut off by Rose.

"Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Ismay." The fiery redhead snapped at him in annoyance and stood up from the table, leaving the room.

Cora's eyes winded and she brought up a white napkin to her lips, trying to suppress her soft laughter. She turned her head to her husband. Robert had both of his eyebrows raised and he just stared at his plate in pure shock. He tightly pursed his lips together, trying not to chuckle because that would be totally unprofessional.

"I do apologise." Ruth's mortified mother spoke up.

Cora watched the dynamic between them. She didn't want to let that poor girl go, but Rose was really hard to handle. Besides, she reminded Cora so much of her daughter Sybil... _Always fighting for what is right._

"Excuse me." Cora put her napkin on the table and gently stood up.

"Where are you going?" Robert rose his head and looked at his wife.

"Just to catch some air. It's becoming very hot in here." She warmly smiled at him.

"It's not only hot in here..." Rosamund muttered, gazing at her sister-in-law. Both, Robert and Cora flashed an irritated look at her before Cora left the room.

* * *

"This is..." Elsie stepped inside her bedroom, accompanied by Charles who tugged her suitcases. "... it?" She stood in the middle of the room, her blue eyes carefully inspecting every angle of her new bedroom.

The room was a little bit bigger than she expected. There were two bunk beds on either side of the room and large shiny mirror with marble sink in one corner.

"It isn't that bad. I actually like it." Charles finally freed his hands from that heavy suitcases and put them onto wooden floor. The room was nothing special, but to him it was magnificent. Well, it was still the Titanic they were talking about. And they had every right to call her the _Queen_ because she was. She really was.

"Now the question is, where is my room?" Charles wondered. He fished the tickets out of his pocket. "That's funny, it almost looks like we were placed in the same room.." He leaned out into the hallway and grabbed a crew member.

"Yes sir how, can I help you?"

"Where is my room?"

The crew member examined the tickets carefully. "Why, with your wife, of course!"

Charles sputtered. "Well...you see...*cough*..she isn't...we're not..." He cleared his throat and regained his composure. "Is there any spare beds in the other rooms?"

The man shook his head. "Afraid not, pal. We're packed solid tight." He took another look at the tickets. "You were booked together, as a couple. This room is actually an extra one, the only reason you got one to yourselves is because it's half storage. You could try and switch with someone, but that's as far as I can help you." He leaned in to Charles, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Although, pal, if you're stuck with these circumstances, might as well make the best of them, eh?" He winked and disappeared down the corridor.

Charles turned back to Elsie, his face beet red. "Erm, I'll go see if there are any other arrangements." He quickly exited.

Elsie sat down on the bottom bunk, her thoughts churning, trying to imagine every possible scenario. _What a strange turn of events! What are we to do if Charles doesn't find a different arrangement? Certainly it would be too risqué to actually share a room!_ She was still sitting there thinking when Charles came back.

His colour was back to normal, but he still appeared flustered. "I inquired of every room down the hall. There are no spare beds or even a spot on the floor. He wasn't joking. It really is packed tight."

"Was anyone able to switch rooms?"

Charles paused. "No one that would make the situation better." He thought about the various men who had volunteered to switch with him and spend the night with Elsie, and his blood felt like it was going to boil. He didn't say anything further, but Elsie seemed to understand his implications.

He bowed his head. "I can sleep on the deck."

She stood up. "Nonsense, Charles. It's April. You'll freeze to death out there."

He looked at her. "What do you suggest?"

She gritted her teeth, wondering how he'd react. "You can stay in here."

He frowned. "But... the impropriety!"

She looked at him. "We won't be doing anything wrong. They don't have any other spots. There are separate beds. We'll use this room only for sleeping and we'll spend all hours on deck. What could possibly happen?"

He blushed furiously. "But everyone in our class will know that we aren't married. They'll laugh at us and deem us improper."

She sighed. "Mr. Carson, if it makes you rest easy, we can keep up a pretense that we're married, if only for propriety's sake. As it is, I'd rather be stuck with you in a situation like this than a complete stranger. I know you're a decent man and you'll respect me."

He still looked wary.

"And Lord and Lady Grantham don't have to know about it."

He nodded slowly. "Alright then, it appears as if this is our best option."

"Alright then."

With the ice broken and the awkwardness over, Charles returned back to his normal self. "The bottom is mine." Charles's strong voice ripped through the silence and he tossed away his coat on the bed below. "There is no way that I'll be able to climb up there."

"So, I'll have to climb up there?" Elsie protested with a smile and looked at the bed above his. She turned her head and glared at him with spellbinding blue eyes. Those eyes he adored so very much.

He wanted to speak, he really did, but he couldn't think of any words. His mind went blank as she continued to stare at him.

They stared at each other a few dull minutes until an uncomfortable silence was interrupted by Elsie's melodic voice.

"Since we have to share the room, I guess we should comply with each other. Alright, I'll sleep above." Elsie said it in an irritated tone, but the corners of her lips curled into a perfect, sweet smile.

She tried to conceal it, but it didn't work. It was strange. She wasn't used to such things. This was a totally new, unexplored, world to them. Totally different than what they had back at Downton. She wasn't complaining though. It was nice to try something new and feel free for once in her life.

"I didn't see that coming." Charles let out a soft chuckle. He was surprised she agreed without hesitating. "So," He turned his head and looked at his friend beside him. "Since we're on the Titanic... would you like... I mean, only if you want to..." Charles felt nervousness washing through him. He avoided her gaze and his eyes wandered around the room in search of words. He had never felt this nervous and all of the sudden his hands began to sweat. It seemed that only Elsie could cause that feeling. In fact, he was more anxious about her answer than about his question. "I do not want this to sound strange or somehow rude... and I do not want you to misunderstand anything..." This never happened to him before. His words became tangled and he didn't know what to say.

"Are you feeling quite alright, Mr. Carson?" She looked at him suspiciously, trying to understand his weird sentences. His face immediately grew red at his own embarrassment and a cold sweat broke out onto his forehead.

"I'm just trying..."

"Do you have a fever?" Elsie's gentle cold hand travelled up until it reached his coloured face. She placed it on his fiery red cheek. Her cool palm on his face was so refreshing and it gave him instant courage.

"Would you like to go out for a walk tomorrow night?" He muttered as fast as possible while the word slipped out of his mouth Her palm froze on his cheek at his unexpected proposal.

Elsie's blue eyes fluttered open and their gazes locked. Uncomfortable silence around them was their only companion while they looked at each other with mixed emotions. Her gaze was loving, but she was surprised. Elsie was left speechless and her mouth slightly opened still trying to process his last sentence. Her mind went blank and she was blocked from her thoughts. Elsie knew what she wanted to say, but no words were coming out. For a long time she had wanted this, but when the moment arrived... she was caught off guard. This was totally unexpected. His gaze was soft, but curious. He silently prayed that she would accept. His heart became a bomb slowly ticking and every second felt like an hour.

"I-I..." Elsie removed her palm from his face and squeezed her hands together. "I would like it. Very much." She sheepishly smiled and fixed her gaze at the floor.

The ticking bomb exploded inside Charles's chest from unexpected happiness. He thought he was prepared for any kind of answer, but in the end... he wasn't at all. The burden from his chest disappeared and only a nice feeling was left inside him.

He smiled from ear to ear and looked at her warmly. "I'm looking forward to it." He wondered how that had been more awkward than the previous proposals.

The doors of their room fluttered opened and two lively young boys stormed in, causing Charles and Elsie to jump.

" _Ooo la la_..." One of the boys sarcastically said and looked around the room. His eyes stopped on the couple in front of his eyes. "We have a lovely couple in here."

Charles and Elsie immediately exchanged ridiculous looks. "What?" Both of them said in unison.

"We're..." Elsie furrowed her eyebrows in search of words.

"We are just..." Charles joined her and tried to help her, nit with no success.

"Love birds!" Both of young men said and shared a chuckle.

 _Really nice first impression._ Elsie thought to herself and rolled her eyes. _This will be very long five days if everyone is like this. At least they already think we are married._ Really, how many more surprises did the Titanic have for them? Was it fate or just coincidental circumstances?

* * *

The cold salty April air touched her shoulders and made her shudder. Cora tightened her white coat around her, seeking warmth. She slowly walked down the first class deck until she saw a familiar redhead clenching an iron rail in front of her. Her heels made a slight clicking sound when they met the wooden floor beneath. Her sapphire eyes gazed at the sky that painted warm colours on puffy clouds above.

She went as far as the first class deck allowed. Cora wanted to get to the very front of the ship, but she would have to go down to second and third class. Honestly, she didn't mind, but she was sure if Robert caught her, she would never hear the end of it. Besides, there was probably some rowdy characters down there.

Cora found a place next to the young girl and carefully put her palms on the cold, white painted rail that reflected the sunset. She swiftly leaned over the rail and looked at the people beneath her. Another deck was filled with random people from various classes. She looked down to see probably third class children playing and singing. Cora smiled at their antics and childish-like ways. First class was all about having your nose in the air and never opening your mouth to voice your opinions.

"Look at those pure colours. They're mixing so well together. It reminds me of some great paintings from Kandinsky. He could capture a moment like this." Cora commented and looked at the horizon. The sun slowly prepared itself to drawn in the sea.

"You're interested in art?" The young woman flashed a curious look at the woman beside her, recognising the same passion they shared.

"Very much." Cora simply answered, not looking away from that beautiful sunset. "It's _marvelous_ , isn't it?"

"It really is..." Rose added with a soft chuckle.

"What's funny?" Cora turned her head smiling softly, her caramel curls danced on her shoulders while her blue eyes searched for an answer among Rose's features.

"For an American, you have a strong English accent." Rose sheepishly smiled, looking at the deck beneath them. Her eyes immediately found a lot of poor people, or as she liked to call them, _people with limited resources_. Their clothes looked dirty, but it seemed that didn't bother them. That people learned to live like that and even though they didn't have the money and luxury first class passengers had, they were still much happier than Rose. They appreciated life itself, and enjoyed it. Sometimes she wondered if her life would've been easier if she had been born as somebody else.

"... but why are you here?" Rose quizzed Cora. She seemed like a very nice person even though she had known her only for a day, but that woman cared about her and they were already so similar in a lot of ways.

"I can see how unhappy you are." Cora gazed at Rose and in her eyes she could see sadness.

"Nonsense!" The young woman faked a nervous laugh and removed her hands from the rail. She couldn't open her soul and mind just like that. Especially not to a stranger, no matter how similar they were. Feeling uncomfortable, Rose decided to go back inside, but she knew the truth, she just couldn't admit it to herself.

"Don't try to deny it..." Cora softly spoke and looked over at the sea. "Anyways... Just a little advice for you. Don't do something you'd regret for the rest of your life." She sighed softly.

Rose feet immediately stopped and she curiously turned around to look at the woman. The last sentence had really intrigued the fiery redhead. "Are you talking from experience?" She muttered quietly. "Are you unhappy with your husband?"

"Of course I'm not." She instantly jumped at her assumption and turned to face the young lady. "What made you think that?" Her eyebrows furrowed while she was expecting an answer.

"I don't know... I-I apologise..." Rose shamefully bowed her head down and fixed her gaze at the floor. She felt so stupid for asking such an intimate question.

As soon as young woman vanished behind the tall glass doors Cora turned once again and looked at the relaxing sunset. The April breeze caused chill bumps to form all over her body.

It was really freezing and they hadn't even left Europe yet. Tomorrow morning they would arrive at Queenstown, Ireland to pick up new passengers before they hit it out across the Atlantic.

She was excited. She really was. Excited to see America, her mother, her brother, the town and the house where she grew up.

 _So many wonderful memories..._

And she couldn't wait to show Robert all that. To share and experience New York once again, but with her husband.

The gentle breeze blew against Cora's face, her cascading hair floated softly in the air as she stood on the deck, her arms crossed and her palms touching her elbows. She was admiring the breathtaking view. The orange colours of the sunset were shining against the glistening navy blue sea, reminding her, for some reason, of a popsicle.

"Caught enough air already?" A familiar voice spoke from behind, but she didn't turn.

Robert moved closer to her, putting his strong hands on her tiny waist. He drew her close to him; his arms embraced her delicate figure. He enjoyed her closeness for a moment, breathing the sweet perfume of her hair.

Her fresh mix of rose and carnation was subtly sublime. He was in pure bliss.

That particular perfume, the one that turned his world upside down since the very first time they had met. And still it had that powerful effect after so many years.

"It's so very beautiful." Her sapphire eyes were still locked on the horizon while his hands rambled around her waist.

"Yes, indeed." Robert was still absorbed with her. His lips were desperately trying to find the back of her neck.

"You're not even looking." Cora laughed softly, feeling his trail of soft little kisses on her nape.

"I am..." He smiled against her neck, his lips gently touching her silky skin. "I'm just looking at another beauty... The one that is _mine_." His words were almost like a whisper. "The one that I deeply, truly love..."

Those simple words with such a powerful impact. _How could I resist?_ Cora turned around to tightly wrap her arms around his neck, she had that beautiful, unique smile still drawn on her face. Her gaze locked on his... On those sincere lovely eyes that always cared for her.

"You know that I love you?" She timidly smiled, looking at his dark blue eyes. She really wanted him to know. Even after so many years she wanted her husband to know that her feeling were true and their love was unique. Usually, they didn't say ' _I love you'_ very much to each other because in marriage it was supposed to be known that you love your partner, so they didn't see any point in saying it to each other repetitively. But this time it was different. Cora felt somehow nervous and some fearful feelings washed through her. She had to say that to him, otherwise she would explode.

"I know." He warmly smiled back, drawing Cora even closer to him.

Their bodies touched completely as he tilted his head to brush his lips lightly on hers, and then captured them in a gentle, meaningful kiss. They loved each other so deeply and they hoped they were going to forever; for the rest of the eternity.

 _Or, at least, until death separated them..._

A sudden change in the breeze called their attention. It was time to go back inside. The night had already fallen and the last rays of sun slowly began to fade. They were surrounded around by dark blue sea and they could hear the waves angrily bumping against the steel of the Titanic.

* * *

He was sitting on a bench trying to catching the last of the sun's rays. He had his knees pulled up close to his chest, supporting a leather bound sketch pad, his only valuable possession. With his conte crayon he drew rapidly, using quick but sure strokes. His strokes stopped when he spotted an interesting woman standing on the first class deck. The stranger watched _her_. Another pair of curious eyes were deeply interested in Cora.

She was beautiful, wearing a simple navy evening dress that looked extravagant on her. Her white coat was recklessly falling from her shoulders and she was snuggling against some man that wrapped his hands around her waist. Her caramel hair was flowing in the wind and it perfectly complemented her dress.

The strange man from the deck below couldn't look away no matter how hard he tried. She intrigued him. That mysterious woman looked like a figure from a romantic love story.

"Forget it friend. She's a lady." His friend told him and waved a hand in front of his eyes. He didn't blink at all, not wanting to miss any second of the beauty that stood on the first class deck.

"So what? That doesn't mean anything." The man mischievously smiled, putting his sketches back into the sketchbook.

"She's a first class passenger... probably some kind of royalty or a millionaire... and she's a _married_ woman." He pointed his index finger at the first class deck above, trying hard to show his friend that there was no possible way he could go there.

"That doesn't mean I can't be with her." He titled his head back not accepting the fact that that woman could never be his.

"It's funny... You're really not giving up." The friend rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Stop it! I'll find a way. I always do." The man angrily snapped at his friend.

"With those manners, hardly..." His friend loudly chuckled, shaking his head at his stubbornness. "Well, I'm curious to see how you will get her attention. She didn't even look at you. Her eyes were fixed on her husband the whole time, not to mention their sweet outpourings of love a few moments earlier."

"She will notice me... sooner or later. We have something in common and I'll make sure she notices it." He looked at his sketches again, admiring his own work. "Besides, she's very friendly."

"... and _friendly_ sometimes can be fatal." His friend continued his sentence and lit up a cigarette. He gave a half smile, wondering how his friend would seduce a lady.

* * *

 _Mysterious man, mixed tickets, arrogant and ignorant people, secret plans, overthinking marriage... Well, if you know me than you know that this is just the beginning._

 _Remember: Review and get a Preview!_


	3. Last Farewell

_**A/N** : Okay, I noticed that some of you think that I am rushing this story a bit, but remember that in the show Charles and Elsie had years for improving their relationship. On the Titanic, they have only four days. Anyways, thanks everyone for all the lovely reviews._

* * *

 **CHAPTER III**

 ** _Last Farewell_**

 _"...The air around her seemed electrically charged,_

 _with her undeniable glory,_

 _I watched her helm from afar,_

 _knowing she'd make a front page story..."_

 _ **11 April 1912;**_ **_Queenstown, Ireland_**

It was almost noon on sailing day. A crowd of hundreds blackened the pier next to Titanic like ants on a jelly sandwich.

Cora and Rosamund walked down the deck, enjoying the warm April morning sunshine. They stopped and took a place next the rail.

For a moment they watched in silence as the Titanic lowered her gangways. Every other ship in harbour looked like a rowboat in comparison to the Titanic. She was a mountain for the people watching from the shore. Some of the people beneath them would within the next hour actually be aboard the finest ship in the world on its way to America.

"Have you asked your mother? Can I stay with you and Robert at her house? If not, I'll stay at the hotel with Patrick and James." Rosamund asked Cora. Her voice was a mixture of wonder and amusement, but her eyes were still fixed on the people around the Ireland dock.

"Of course you can stay with us. There's no question about it." Cora replied curtly, looking at the red-headed woman. "That's Robert's home, and yours too. You're always welcome there."

"It's very nice to know that." Rosamund warmly smiled at her sister-in-law. It was comforting to know she would be received graciously even on the other side of the world.

Down on the pier, horsedrawn vehicles, motorcars and lorries moved slowly through the dense throng. The atmosphere was one of excitement and general giddiness. People embraced in tearful farewells, or waved and shouted _bon voyage_ wishes to friends or relatives on the decks above.

"I'm going inside. Robert is probably waiting." Cora gently removed her silky gloves from the rail and she turned around, ready to leave Rosamund.

"Let him wait." Rosamund sarcastically said and chuckled, giving another look at the people swarming the area in front of her. She wanted to catch a couple of more warm sun rays, knowing that the weather on the ocean was unpleasantly cold.

"Easier to say than do..." Cora grinned and took a few steps forward, but had her eyes focused on Rosamund behind her.

She playfully shrugged her shoulders, winked at Rosamund, and held her gaze while walking down the deck. Cora was about to turn her head forward when she received an unexpected, harsh bump on her chest. Something had just slammed into her, throwing her balance off. Time seemed to slow and everything felt surreal in that moment. Her heart rapidly started bumping inside her ribs, not knowing what would happen next. Through her blurry vision, Cora saw some papers flying around her and scattering around the first class promenade deck. Her knees went weak and she braced herself for landing on the floor at any second until something strong grabbed her waist and prevented her from falling.

Cora's arms instinctively grabbed that _someone_ tightly for more support. She rose her head, still in shock from the unpleasant experience. Their eyes locked and then she realised that her hands were around his neck, pulling herself closer to him in the fear that she might still fall on the floor.

"My lady, are you alright?" The unfamiliar man tightened his grip around her waist and slowly brought her back onto her heels.

"I think so..." Cora managed to answer his question. She deeply breathed in and almost immediately removed her hands from that strange man.

"For heavens sake, you almost fell down." Rosamund carefully approached her. "Next time look where you're going." She raised her voice at the man who stood opposite them.

"I truly apologise ma'am." The man knelt down and started gathering his drawings that were scattered around the deck.

Cora immediately noticed his talent for painting and drawing. Among the drawings she saw a few black and white photographs from various famous pieces of art. _He's probably collecting them for a book or some album._ She made her own diagnosis and connected the facts. _He is interested in art...quite a bit, actually..._

"These are rather good." She murmured, pointing her finger at few specific drawings that caught her attention.

"You think so?" The man stood up, looking her the drawings she had shown an interest in. "I'm not so sure..."

"Nonsense." She tilted her head back, giving the drawings a better look. "Just look at this lines..." Cora pointed her elegant forefinger on one charcoal stroke. "And these details are just exquisite." She pointed out a couple of other key features.

Rosamund was taken aback. She stood beside them, but it seemed that both of them had forgotten her existence. She felt like an outsider, having nothing good to say about his paintings. To her every drawing looked the same. Different people on white pieces of paper. Nothing interesting...

But to Cora it meant a lot more. She didn't only see ordinary people. She could read their stories and their thoughts through the paper. The faces said a lot more than the words could ever tell. To Cora, every person had its own unique story.

"You really have an artistic sense." He complimented her and her cheeks grew pink. She was glad he had noticed.

"Excuse me, but we should be going." Rosamund patted Cora's shoulder, trying to remind her that Robert was probably looking for her.

"If you like them so much, I'm willing to give you this drawing." He extended his arm and offered her his sheet of paper, ignoring Rosamund.

"No, I can not accept that." She shook her head and brought her hands up in denial, refusing his offer.

"Than take it as an apology gift, because I'm really sorry for bumping into you." She thought about it for a moment before giving him her final decision.

"Alright, if you insist." Cora slowly took the drawing from his hands. "Thank you." She warmly smiled and looked at his eyes... unfamiliar, strange, deep blue eyes.

"We have to go." Rosamund's thin voice broke the silence between them. "Goodbye." She continued firmly in a cold tone and tugged Cora's arm a little bit.

When they were safely away Rosamund turned her head once again, and looked at Cora with piercing eyes. "How could you speak with him? Who knows who is that man is, or what his intentions are?"

"He's just being generous. There's no need to fuss." Cora frowned and looked at the drawing in her hands. It was indeed beautiful, and it flattered her that a strange man immediately recognised her interest in art.

"You're just being too friendly." Rosamund gave Cora a look and Cora flashed an annoyed look back at her. Cora twisted the drawing a few times and found a little signature on the back of the paper.

 _SB_ _, April 10 '12. The Titanic._

* * *

Elsie was sitting in an empty room, listening to the ticking of the wall clock nearby her. She was clenching her own sweaty hands, feeling overwhelming nervousness and anxiety. The time was approaching very fast and she wasn't ready at all. The sun would soon drown in the sea and Charles would come to take her out for a walk. To other people it wouldn't be very significant, but to Elsie it was everything she had ever wanted.

She was also scared. Elsie didn't want to think about the future. They had been friends for many years now and she would hate to ruin that all with just one wrong move. She wasn't ready for that. No, she couldn't do that. Elsie must keep her feelings under control.

 _Perhaps, I shouldn't have accepted his offer... Well, now it's too late for regrets._

She was going to go crazy with nervousness and she started hyperventilating. She stopped for a few minutes just to regulate her breathing. After she started to feel more normal she finally rose from the bed and nervously made her way to her suitcase. Excited, but at the same time feeling melancholy, she started rummaging through the dresses in the suitcase.

 _This one... No._ She threw the red dress behind her. Elsie picked another soft yellow dress... _Too serious!_ She thought and tossed it away. _Maybe this._.. Elsie continued picking and tossing her dresses all around. In just a few minutes, half of her suitcase was scattered around the room.

"Love bird has problems?" An unfamiliar voice behind her said and caused her to jump.

"Do you know how to knock?" Elsie left out a loud huff, looking at the man who had just entered her room. "And don't call me that."

"Well, this is my room too." The man answered, slowly sitting on the bed. Elsie thought briefly about how the ticket masters had made yet another mistake and had overbooked. This young man had come to them last night asking for a spot on the floor. Charles and Elsie had agreed, considering that they had been in a similar position.

"Huh..." He gasped, seeing the mess she had made in the room. "It seems that someone is nervous." He smiled while he looked at her, the look on her face was comical.

"If you were in my place, believe me, you would be too." Elsie nervously said and threw another dress behind her back.

"I like this one." The young boy said and picked up a navy blue evening dress.

"Oh, what do you know about dresses?" She added a half smile and crossed her arms over her chest. "What's your name again?"

"Jack..." He shrugged his shoulders. "Jack Dawson, ma'am"

" _Ma'am?_ " She raised her eyebrows. "You're _annoying_." Elsie started to chuckle, knowing that he loved to tease her.

"And you're _shy_. I don't know which one is worse." They both shared a laugh. "You really like him."

Elsie instantly stopped smiling and tried to put on a serious face. "No..." Her cheeks grew pink and she tried to fight a little smile that wanted to show on her lips.

" _No_? But he's your husband..." Jack furrowed and looked at her with confusion in his eyes.

 _I forgot_! Elsie's eyes widended. "I meant yes..." She nervously scratched her neck and fixed a few curls that fell from their pins. She didn't know how to imagine her and Charles married. It seemed like a very strange thought to her. "...and it's complicated."

"Love is complicated." He sighed while thinking about that extravagant first class girl he noticed yesterday. It wasn't fair... and it was stupid. How can classes between people decide anything? Just because he wasn't born as a rich snob meant that he would be disrespected for the rest of his life.

Life was so unfair, but at least it was unfair to everyone.

"You're way too young to know anything about love." Elsie interrupted his thoughts and continued. "You don't understand."

"What I do understand is that, if you love someone you should tell them because you never know when your life can end or what can happen in between. You must appreciate every minute you spend with them. It's the same with me. I appreciate talking to you very much." He stood up, heading towards the door.

She smiled sheepishly at his words, still holding the walls around her very high.

"It's that simple." Jack added a smiled. "... And I'd go with navy blue, _love bird_."

"Out." Elsie rolled her blue eyes and pointed her index finger at the door. "As you wish, _love bird_." Jack smiled wildly as he teased her, and vanished from the room as fast as possible.

"For God's sake!" As soon as he exited the room, she smiled softly again. He was nice company for someone so young.

Elsie picked up a navy blue dress and looked at it one more time.

...And more important, Jack was right... _About everything._

* * *

 _ **A/N** : I hope you liked it even though I know it wasn't the most exciting chapter, but the details are important._ _So, please just write a review. It can be one word for all I care as long as I know that you liked it._

 _ **Reminder: Review and get a Preview!**_


	4. Mannequin

_**A/N** : Thanks so much to Gretchie for her super beta powers, and thank you all for reviewing the last chapter. Hope this one won't disappoint._

* * *

 **CHAPTER IV**

 _ **Mannequin**_

 _"...Soon it would flood down below,_

 _the water would be their biggest foe,_

 _life boats not nearly so plenty,_

 _they wouldn't save too many..."_

 _ **11 April 1912;**_ _**Leaving**_ **_Queenstown, Ireland_**

They all sat around one big table, gossiping and joking with the people next to them in intense conversations. Cal and Ruth were laughing together, while on the other side Robert and Patrick were entertaining the rest of the family and friends. Cora couldn't hear what they were saying. She was staring at her plate, barely listening to the inconsequential babble around her. She wasn't feeling well, all the noise and voices around her made her feel sick. Their useless words echoed in her head, giving her anxiety.

Cora wanted to escape, but she wanted to join the conversation too. No one was listening to what she wanted to say, not even Robert. He was too busy entertaining the other people that he was completely ignoring her.

She turned her head and looked at him. Robert sat right beside her, relaxed and calm. He lit up a cigarette and white smoke exited through his nose as he laughed at the joke Cal had just told him. He took a sip of high-quality bittersweet whiskey and continued to speak while his other hand combed through his hair.

Cora watched how everyone laughed at his words and even Rose added a half smile. To her, it wasn't funny at all. He was ignoring her, and suddenly the words Rose had said a day ago came swiftly into her mind. _Are you happy?_

But, on the other hand, perhaps she was just being over dramatic. Cora didn't know why she was feeling like this, but she wasn't asking for much. Just for Robert's attention. That was all.

Cora rose from her seat with the intention to go out on the deck. She hoped that maybe Robert would like to join her, but it only brought her more disappointment when she saw that he hadn't even noticed that she stood up. Robert continued to listen to the people Cora couldn't stand at that very moment. He was recklessly smoking the cigarette and the smell only made her feel worse. Cora had never liked him smoking, but she couldn't do anything about it, could she?

She decided to go out on her own. Why would she even want to stay there? She couldn't voice her opinions. She couldn't joke with them because it would be unladylike. Well, Cora was better than that.

* * *

Elsie walked down the first class deck in her lovely navy blue evening dress. The dress outlined her curves really well and made her look thinner than she already was. She wore beautiful satin black heels that made a sound each time she took a step further. Her gaze was firmly fixed at the sky, her eyes glistening under dim lights of the Titanic lamps. Her thoughts wandered around, thinking various things while she gazed at the stars blazing gloriously overhead.

"The sky is stunning. I've never seen anything like this before. And the ocean is so calm. I really thought that the weather would be horrible here." Elsie's velvet voice said, catching the attention of Charles.

"It is calm, but you can never judge the ocean by just one wave." He calmly said and gave her some time to think about his last sentence. It was definitely a metaphor... or something. Sure, it had a deep meaning, but she didn't know what he was referring to specifically. Elsie was embarrassed to ask, so it remained a secret.

Elsie saw many first class passengers walking in the same direction as them, heading towards the the dining room. She walked with her hands clasped politely, but she fixed her gaze at the floor. She didn't feel like she belonged here. Looking high class and well respected just because you were dressed like a first class passenger. It wasn't her... It wasn't them.

But to Charles, she looked like the flower of humanity. Elsie was a delicate lady, but she was humble too... a perfect combination.

In an endless darkness that surrounded them and a million stars that shined above unusually calm ocean, Charles finally spoke and glanced at her. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Elsie hadn't noticed that Charles had followed her gaze. She slightly blushed and glanced up to catch him staring at her. His eyes were that dark blue colour. She found herself breathless and almost hypnotised. Charles didn't look at her like he had before, curious and thoughtful. He looked at her with a strange look in his eyes, one she couldn't read. They had worked together for so many years and she knew him the best, but at the same time, it felt that she had only seen the surface.

She felt her heart flutter in both excitement and disappointment; excitement because she was here by his side, walking and talking carelessly, disappointed because she knew that this night would be over soon. Elsie frowned at her own thoughts. This was all strange. She had never been so flattered by a man before. Of course, some had tried to make their way with her, but she always turned them down. Charles was different. He didn't flirt with her constantly but he talked to her casually, hinting still that he liked her in some way and that he cared about what she told him. Elsie was surprised that he was interested at all.

"Astonishing." Elsie whispered. She turned to him and noticed that his eyes had been on her again. One blush blended into the next as she remembered some of Jack's words.

"You are quiet tonight. Is something wrong?" Charles softly asked, noticing her sudden change in the mood... And he always noticed. He was the type of a friend to give Elsie her own privacy and leave her to her business, but at the same time he cared about her more than anyone else. And she loved him for that.

She shook her head. "No... I just get easily bored at the dinner parties. I don't know how they can attend so many of them." She let out a soft chuckle. Elsie had a feeling that Charles wasn't enjoying the dinner parties any more than she was.

"It seems that you're not the only one." He replied. He pointed at a figure at the end of the rail. They both stopped moving and stood there in silence.

"Her ladyship..." Elsie whispered, trying hard not to be noticed by Cora who stood at the end of first class deck.

"What is she doing here? They are supposed to be at dinner!" Charles quizzed himself. Cora thoughtfully looked at the sea and after a while she calmly headed down the stairs to the third class deck.

"That was strange." Elsie commented out loud when she felt Charles's hand on her back.

"Let's not think about that now." Charles's hand soothing moved on her back, and it caused her to shiver under his touch. "I would rather talk about you." He had a kind smile, but his eyes were very serious.

"About anything in particular?" She stared back at him, still a little bit curious about Cora's weird state earlier. Charles nodded and his deep voice spoke up.

"Do you consider us friends at this point?" He watched her face carefully, measuring her reaction. She blushed, her face practically turning into a tomato.

"Well..." Elise shuttered, completely taken aback by his last question. _Why is he asking this?_ "I thought that we're already friends, have been for decades." She frowned at him in confusion.

"Of course, we are. I apologise. I just had to ask and make sure." Charles clenched his jaw, looking at the sea.

Elsie frowned once again. He wasn't making sense. "It may sound silly, but you're the first person I've met who actually relates to me. I consider us friends. I mean, I probably like you much more than you like-"

Elsie stopped. She didn't realise she said it out loud. She had been speaking and thinking so quickly that Elsie hadn't been paying attention to what she was saying. Charles immediately looked back at her.

He seemed to know what she was going to say, but still he gave her a small smile. "You think you like me much more that _I_ like _you_?"

Elsie blushed and looked down at her feet again. That was the last thing she wanted him to know, but it was too late to take it back. It was silent for a long time when she heard him whispering to himself. " _You're wrong._ "

The entire time her heart fluttered wildly. She wanted to respond, but didn't know how. When she had finally found enough courage to speak, a loud, but yet eerily familiar scream reached their ears.

The scream echoed in the darkness around them and then it suddenly stopped. Elsie jumped from the fear of the sounds coming from the deck below.

She literally froze in fear. "What was that?" Charles curiously asked and they exchanged worried looks. The thing was, they didn't know the answer. They both slowly leaned over the railing, trying to find any sign of what could make such a fearful sound. Their eyes searched in the darkness. The dim lights of the Titanic illuminated a familiar figure on the third class deck.

"Good God..." Elsie murmured in disbelief at the scene that played in front of them. "Go inside and call his lordship! Now!"

In the blink of an eye Charles vanished inside the ship. Elsie stood there not knowing what to do. Shadows and strange figures moved on the deck, but not a sound to be heard. She couldn't go down because it could end up much worse. She wasn't quite sure what was happening, but she was sure Robert wouldn't like it. And Elsie just hoped that she was horribly wrong, that this wasn't what she thought was happening.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _I must say that I have missed my cliffhangers! What happened to_ someone _will be revealed in the next chapter so, d_ _on't forget to review if you want the fifth chappie and a preview. There will always be something extra available for those that review. Anyway, the next chapter will be golden *deviously grinning* Anyways, any thoughts?_


	5. A Swim in Denial

**A/N:** _I'm sure this chapter is probably going to leave some questions opened, but I promise to answer them in the next updates._

 _Thank you Gretchie for your patience and correcting this long chapter and thanks to each one of you for your amazing comments!_

 _Long update so grab a snack and enjoy..._

* * *

 **CHAPTER V**

 _ **A Swim in Denial**_

 _"... They called her unsinkable,_

 _with her unbending steel:_

 _they called her the ship of dreams,_

 _with her sturdy appeal..."_

 _ **11 April 1912 ;**_

 _What had happened before..._

Cora walked along the corridor. A steward coming the other way greeted her, and she nodded with a slight smile. She was still perfectly composed.

That was it. That was the last night in Europe. They would leave Ireland behind and left in front of them was only the deep blue Atlantic sea. Tomorrow morning they would be on the cold ocean. Cora couldn't wait to see America, but she still felt a little bit nostalgic. Downton had been her home for decades, it was natural to miss it.

Cora came to the end of first class promenade deck. It was unusually quiet. It seemed that everyone was inside and having fun. Everyone except for her.

Since she was alone on the deck, and curious about what lay beneath her, Cora decided to go down. Robert didn't care about what she was doing, so she might as well.

She smiled sadly as she shimmied into the world forbidden to a lady.

Cora walked along the second and third class deck. Her heels made a sharp sound that echoed in the darkness. It was very dark outside. It had to be around ten or eleven o'clock by now. Cora hugged her arms around herself as she grew colder, but she didn't bother going back inside for a shawl or coat.

Cora's hair was slightly dishevelled, flying on the cold April breeze. She was gently shaking, but she realized with a start that it was not from the cold but emotions she didn't understand the root of... self-hatred, desperation. What had brought this on? Her quick breaths hitched in an occasional sob, which she tried to suppress.

She saw a tall lantern ahead and walked toward it. It was the very stern of the ship. Finally, she came to an end. She was now officially standing on the third class deck, without feeling any remorse for breaking rules.

Cora put her hands on the rail and stared out at the black water. She took a deep breath, feeling a great need for oxygen.

She leaned over and watched the waves as they rolled out from under the ship. The massive propellers were churning the Atlantic into white foam, and a ghostly wake trailed off toward the horizon. In big white letters _R.M.S. Titanic_ was written on the back of the ship.

The ship was going further and further from the Ireland harbour and she felt a little bit homesick. She smiled at herself because she thought that Robert would have felt like this, but instead she did. It seemed that Robert was doing perfectly fine, carelessly drinking and smoking with his friends and family. She stepped a little higher onto the railing.

She had a sad smile drawn on her face as they got further away. Cora took another step on the railing as the light on the land started to disappear. Cora recklessly took one step higher onto the rail, completely hypnotised. She desperately wanted to catch one last glimpse of the land. Below her were the huge letters of the name Titanic and she clumsily stood above them.

She leaned out, not thinking about the consequences, and tried to see more before the ship completely disappeared in the darkness. There was the sudden, slick sound of cloth sliding over the metal and she realised that she had leaned too far. A horrific sound escaped from her throat, a primal screaming as she felt herself falling forward. Cora's heart thumped in fear as she braced herself to suddenly meet the cold water below. But then she felt something hard wrap around her waist.

It pulled her back very quickly and she was slammed to the floor of the deck. Cora was breathing hard and shaking all over. The incident had only lasted a few quick seconds, but that did nothing to ease the shock.

Cora heard a smooth, worried voice speaking behind her, but somehow it still sounded familiar. "Are you alright, my lady?"

She glanced up and blinked in astonishment. It was him again. The man she had met earlier today.

Cora breathed in and out before she was able to form a truthful, but shaky reply. "Yes, I'm fine."

She felt his eyes piercing her face. Cora turned her head and their gazes locked once again. She couldn't deny it, he was handsome. His eyes remained on her, yet he seemed focused on something in the distance.

 _There must be something on my hair or face._ Cora thought, but she already knew there wasn't. His look was confusing to her and she couldn't read his emotions or intentions. _Why does he look at me like this_? She thought, and then it hit her: she was on the third class deck and he was probably a third class passenger. She was probably disgusting in his eyes. Only a first class gold digger.

Cora found some courage and once again looked at him. She felt confused, saddened, and alone. She was still sitting on the deck, looking up at him.

Finally, the awkwardness was broken when he saw she was shivering and he lifted her up onto her feet. He was being very careful and protective towards her. He had smooth flawless features. His bronze hair was perfectly shaded.

He held his hands around her waist as if to catch Cora if she fell again. She needed a moment to regain her balance, and she heard him speaking again. "Well, at least you're still in one piece."

Cora laughed darkly, still shaken from the unpleasant experience.

 _Why did I laugh?_ Cora nervously thought. She would had taken that as an insult from anyone else. It was strange, but she felt it was impossible to be mad when his eyes were on her.

Cora finally straightened up and spoke. "Thank you for saving me...two times in one day... Mr...?" She trailed off suggestively.

He finally removed his hand from her waist and held it out to her formally. "Simon Bricker, miss." He laughed in a sweet, velvet voice.

Cora tilted her head down shyly as she held out her hand. She meant to shake his hand, but he snatched it and landed a soft kiss on the back. Cora felt a spark of electricity to his touch and she blushed.

She breathed in surprise. "Cora Crawley..." She wanted to continue, but suddenly another voice loudly shouted and she heard hurried steps coming towards her.

" _Cora!_ " Robert yelled, running towards her, his voice echoing in the darkness.

She turned her head. She saw Robert, and she also saw Carson and Elsie accompanied by few officers. Cora and Simon instantly broke apart and she carefully took a few steps toward Robert.

"Cora..." Robert stopped in front of her and pulled her into his embrace. He hugged her tightly, soothingly caressing her caramel hair. "Carson told me what had happened. Are you alright?" He breathed heavily into to her ear and she could feel his heart fearfully bumping inside his chest.

"I am just fine. No need to worry." Cora snuggled against his chest, feeling his warmth. She felt Robert wrap a cozy blanket around her body that Mrs. Hughes had handed him. He also kissed the top of her head, embracing her tighter and tighter with loving care.

"Carson, so this is the man who was harassing my wife?" Robert's caring voice became croaky, cold, and emotionless. Cora couldn't remember the last time she had heard it, and it literally made her shiver.

"It is, Milord." Carson stood beside Robert and they both coldly stared at the strange man that had touched his wife.

"Did he hurt you, my love?" He looked down at her and the pairs of lovely blue eyes met.

"Robert, he..." Cora wanted to speak, but was cut off by Carson.

"We heard voices and a moment later..." Carson continued in his deep voice. "We saw him, pulling her ladyship onto the floor."

The two officers started walking forward to arrest the man. "That's not what happened." Simon joined the conversation, defending himself. "Why don't you listen to her."

Robert's eyes widened in disbelief as he continued to watch the unfamiliar man. He had touched _his_ Cora. Robert angrily squeezed his fist, he was very close to punching him in the face. If Cora wasn't there he would teach him what it meant to touch what was his.

" _Cora_? What happened?" Robert said, trying hard to stay calm. He bowed his head down and looked at his wife. She slipped her hands under his coat and rested against him even though he smelled like cigarettes. The best feeling in the world was feeling him against her, and he knew that very well.

"Mr. Bricker saved me. I almost fell over the rail and he pulled me back. We fell onto the floor while he was _saving my life_ and that was exactly what Carson saw." Cora's eyes looked at Carson with annoyance for giving Robert the wrong first impression of a man who had saved her life.

The officers backed away, freeing Bricker after hearing Cora's side of the story.

"Good Lord." Robert gasped at her words. _Fell over the rail_... He was too shocked, too scared to ask any more questions that night, but Cora knew that the conversation wasn't nearly over yet. It would continue behind the privacy of their four walls. "Let's go inside." Robert's arms slid down her delicate body and stopped at her waist, gently leading her back into the ship.

They took a few steps down third class deck, leaving everyone behind when Robert suddenly stopped. "Cora, you're white as a sheet. Are you sure you're alright?" His gaze was full of concern and his voice tensed while he looked at her pale face. "Shall I call a doctor?"

"No, darling, I'm just still slightly shocked." She smiled gently at him even though she didn't feel like smiling at all, but she wanted to release Robert from his anxiety. "But we can't just leave. We must thank him somehow." Cora brushed her hand over his chest, straightening his wrinkled shirt. "We should invite him to dinner tomorrow night."

Cora thought that it'd be very refreshing to have someone from a different class at the table. She could speak normally with him and it was always nice to see someone else's points of view.

"If you really insist, my darling, than alright... but I can not guarantee that others will like it." Shockingly, he relented. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked away in the endless darkness that surrounded them. There was nothing ahead of them, but deep black sea.

"We'll see." She timidily smiled. It had all felt like she was standing on the edge of a great precipice, with no one to pull her back, no one who cared... or even noticed. But her opinion had changed drastically that night.

Charles looked unbelievably at the scene in front of his eyes. Cora had invited a third class passenger to dine at the same table as them. And they didn't know anything about that strange man. To him that was more than inappropriate, and he didn't particularly like that man _Bricker_ after what he had seen with his own two eyes. There was something about that man, he could see it in face. Charles didn't know what it was, but surely he would find out soon.

Both Charles and Elsie gazed at the couple in front of them. Robert had his hand tightly wrapped around his wife's waist while they walked down the main deck. He supported her body just in case her knees went weak, he didn't want her to get hurt again since she didn't look good at all.

As soon as Robert and Cora vanished from their views and disappeared into the bowels of the ship, Charles turned his head and looked at the woman beside him.

"Are you quite alright Mrs. Hughes?" Charles worried face carefully studied her.

"I am. This was just so... unexpected." Her voice was like a whisper and her eyebrows furrowed. The scene from earlier started replaying in her mind all over again.

"I think that this whole scene was very strange." Charles commented as they started to walk forward. "Something isn't right here... Something isn't right about him... about them."

"You suspect something?" She quizzed him, feeling cold spreading through her body; night on the open ocean was cold indeed.

"I don't know yet..." He uncomfortably looked away and fixed his eyes on something distant. Elsie glared at him, immediately recognising his look and his feelings. She read him and when she finally reached what he had in mind, she opened her eyes wide in disbelief. "Please tell me you don't think that... that maybe they..." She said in denial and shook her head slightly. "Dear Lord..."

"We don't know what exactly happened. We just saw them on the floor." He let out a loud huff. "I have no idea..." Charles said while he tried to dismiss his thoughts. It was shocking even for him.

Elsie looked forward as they walked down the deck. She was shivering from the cold. The sky was now clouded and there weren't any stars. It was completely dark except for a few lamps here and there on the walls.

Maybe Elsie had misunderstood something, but she already knew she hadn't. She knew what she had seen, it was clear. They talked like they knew each other from earlier, her ladyship also didn't hesitate with him touching her. She laughed along with him... and at the end she invited him to dinner.

Elsie was lost in her thoughts, analyzing and replaying the scene over and over again, until her teeth began to chatter. She tightly wrapped her hands around her, trying to find some warmth in that cold April night.

"Are you cold?" Charles turned his head and a concerned look flashed through his eyes.

"Not at all." She said defensively through her chattering teeth, walking forward.

"Nonsense! You clearly are." Without another word, Charles instantly took off his coat and tenderly wrapped it around her. He smiled, tightening the coat and she sheepishly smiled back.

She was cold, so she accepted without much hesitation. Elsie gazed at him, her eyes carefully measuring his reactions and movements while they walked down the deck.

 _This whole thing is confusing_... and she wasn't just thinking about Cora and Bricker.

* * *

Robert nervously paced on the ivory carpeted floor of their bedroom. It was almost midnight and their room was quiet again, but this time for a different reason. After their particular experience, Robert pressured everyone to go back in their rooms. He was utterly afraid, he almost lost her.

"You know the rule." Robert said seriously in roughly voice, his arms crossed over his chest. He stopped pacing to look at his wife. His gaze couldn't have been more severe. She knew that it was forbidden to go on the third class deck, and he told her many times but she didn't listen.

"I do, Robert." Cora answered with honesty as she removed the blanket and allowed herself to collapse on the bed. The day had been too long and her bones were feeling strangely weary. She moved the soft silky cushions against the headboard and immediately allowed her back to rest against them. "I felt nostalgic. I saw no danger..." Cora sighed. She tried to justify herself, but the truth was that she did wrong.

Robert's gaze softened. Her loving and beautiful heart pushed her to do something she'd never thought could put her in danger. He took slowly steps and went to sit by her side.

"You really gave us a good scare." Robert reached to take one of her hands and she clasped it in a loving hold. "When Carson said that you were in danger..." He looked at her bright blue eyes. "Until we found you... They were the longest minutes of my life... and I've lived a lot."

"But everything ended up well..." She looked away, avoiding his concerned eyes.

"Cora..." He didn't want to change the subject.

Cora moved closer to him, nestling her head against his shoulder. She had never meant to cause him or anyone else such distress. "I'm so sorry."

His arms enfolded her, embracing her tightly. He loved her too dearly and losing her would mean the end of his life too. He couldn't picture his life without her by his side, even sometimes when he struggled to show how much he loved her, he always cared for his wife.

They remained silent, gone into each other's embrace for what it seemed an eternity. The incredible sense of refuge and safeness they gave to each other was unique and probably incomprehensible to anyone else; their bond was strong, indescribable. There was no feeling on earth like it and nothing existed in the world that could replace it.

 _Nothing_.

If she died, he would follow her but the sole thought of it happening shattered Robert's heart.

"I couldn't bare the thought of losing you, Cora." He breathed in her hair and his soft words echoed in her ears. She slowly pulled apart to meet his dark blue eyes. There was nothing else that could be seen in them except love; true, deep, sincere love. Carefully, she lifted her hand and placed it tenderly on his worried face, her fingers caressed his smooth skin.

All Robert's attention was focused on Cora until he caught a glimpse of something lying on the nightstand by the corner of his eyes. "Cora, what's that?"

She instantly turned her head and looked at the drawing she received as a gift earlier today. "Just a piece of art."

"And this one is for...?" He grinned.

"Our bedroom." She simply answered, knowing that his smile was because this was the third drawing in a week she decided to put there.

"It's nice to know that our bedroom is still on your list." Robert playfully commented, but the connotation in the sentence was obvious.

"Oh, Robert." Cora sighed and embarrassingly looked at him. She was too occupied the last three weeks and all her attention was focused on Downton before they left on the Titanic, making Cora to totally neglect her husband; and what in an old fashioned way would be called _wife's duty_.

"I'm joking." He let out a soft laugh. "But..." He tightened his embrace around her and gently whispered. "Maybe we can..." His breath tickled her softly and she smiled knowing well what his proposal was going to be.

"Do you know how much I love you?" The feelings she had yesterday came flowing inside her again. She felt sacred for no real reason, but once again she felt a strong need to tell him how much she loved him. The wave of overpowering dismay and fear coursed through her, but she pretended not to be affected by her feelings.

Cora tilted her head to a side and a sweet smile was shining on her face. The one that revealed the genuine love he knew she had for him. His dear Cora was all love... and all his.

Robert smiled a little, the way he used to do in moments like that. "Tell me again..."

Cora laughed softly. "Come here..." And in one rapid movement, she tilted her head up to touch his lips with hers. She captured them in one quick playful kiss, tasting bittersweet whiskey he had on them... and that was it.

Robert wanted to kiss her neck, knowing very well that it would instantly make her surrender to him.

"I'm not falling..." Cora smiled, stopping him from his intentions. She wanted the same thing he did, but at the same time she didn't. Her feelings were a mixture of amusement and denial.

"Don't do this to me." He disappointedly sighed while Cora pulled away with mischievous smile drawn on her face. He clicked his tongue in fake disappointment, seeing that he was rejected. His hands were still rambling around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He was stubborn and she knew...

"Forget it Robert, not today." Cora seriously shook her head and pulled away even further, until he trapped her between the headboard and his body. His strong arms captivated her and Robert chuckled, knowing that she was never going to be able to free herself from his distinctive strength.

"Robert! Stop it... we can't." Cora raised her eyebrows and softly giggled, trying to escape but his lips were already wandering along the contour of her face, tracing its path to capture her lips one more time. She closed her eyes enjoying the sensation he left behind on her bare skin each time his lips touched her. Cora couldn't do anything so she surrendered to his touch and this time, it was a kiss that promised to last for the rest of the night.

He finally freed her, but never her lips. Robert allowed his fingers to trace the low neckline of her delicate nightgown, tentatively looking for that particular section of her garment he knew so very well. Once under his touch, he began to undo the lace cord ribbon of the front with timeless skills.

Cora was tired, but she wanted to prolong the moment as much as she could. Without any doubt, it was going to be one of those long nights, and very well deserved for both of them. Greedily and content, they were going to take the hours of darkness for themselves, until down... until the first light of the morning intruded through the windows.

At the end... she fell at her husband's stubbornness and charm, but something still wasn't right. Strange emotions and feelings were building inside of her and she didn't understand half of them, but she knew very well what she wanted.

Feeling his lips gently moving on her neck and pushing her against the mattress, Cora suppressed her thoughts and only enjoyed her husband's touch and sweet kisses she received every passing second.

She smiled slightly. This trip was turning down an entirely different path than what she had expected. It was almost absurd.

 _ **Review for a preview**_


	6. Frozen in Time

**A/N:** _Here's the next chapter. I hope you like it. Thanks again for all of the wonderful reviews. Keep it up._

 _Gretchie, thank you for being an amazing beta._

* * *

 **CHAPTER VI**

 _ **Frozen in Time**_

 _"... So I'll grab your hand_

 _and beg you to stay_

 _I know we can last_

 _we can make it till May..."_

 _ **12 April 1912**_ _ **;**_ ** _The Atlantic Ocean_**

As predicted, the bright April sun intruded through the large windows of the Crawley bedroom, proclaiming the morning. The idea of having to leave the warmth of their intimate embrace was extremely disappointing. It was already difficult for them to find a moment alone to themselves when surrounded by a large family and having many obligations. That was actually the reason they bought the tickets for the Titanic at the last moment, deciding to take a break from their everyday life and have time to themselves.

Interruptions were constantly coming at Robert and Cora. That's why they loved to spend nights together. Sometimes they would talk the whole night; conversing, commenting, laughing or even arguing about trivial things. Other nights they would simply lie together, enjoying each other's presence; closing their eyes to daydream about their plans for the future... And there were times when they would make love; like the night before. They would witness the dawn turn into a new day with their bodies entwined under the soft bed linens, holding each other lovingly, protectively and just as close as the night they first truly loved each other.

Cora opened her eyes. Her head was buried in the crook of his neck while their legs were tangled together. She breathed in his scent. He smelled better than any flower. His scent was strong and very sweet, to the point of intoxication. She put her arm around him and pulled the covers up to his waist. She cared about him and he cared about her too. She knew that he never meant to cause her any harm or distress.

Cora tried with difficulty to look over his shoulder at the wooden clock across their room, but it was a difficult task when trapped under his body. Cora deeply sighed as he nuzzled her neck, delighting in the perfume of her alabaster skin. His arms folded around her. It was very hard to reject him when he was being so caring and sweet towards her.

The night before was magnificent for both of them. It was something they both desperately needed and wanted more than anything. To become one, to share and experience their love all over again as the night passed by. She truly didn't know how much she had needed all that until this morning.

"Robert..." She smiled, trying to release herself from his tight embrace but it was impossible. His strong arms wandered on her delicate body and embraced her fine figure, pulling her closer.

Usually, tickling Robert was a good option in this case or even biting him if he didn't relent, but it was hard to do such a thing when he was bathing her with soft kisses.

 _Who could resist?_

Robert brought his lips on her ivory skin, creeping way down her throat until his lips reached the center of her collarbone. He felt Cora's hands wandering on his back, trying hard to find a spot to tickle him. Anticipating the struggle, his arm slid down her waist until he reached her abdomen and tickled her first.

She laughed hard, twisting and squirming in his embrace. "Robert, we have to wake up!" Cora's raspy morning voice said through her involuntary laughter.

"We are awake, Mrs. Crawley." Robert smiled against her neck and his hot breath tickled her while he planted soft kisses around it. Gently, he got on top of her and carefully managed to part her legs with his knee.

 _She was doomed_.

Giving up, Cora turned her head in consent, giving him better access to that spot behind her ear he loved to nibble. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, feeling his weight on her body once again. "We can't stay locked up in this room the whole day. We don't have that much time."

Robert playfully smiled. "We have all the time in the world." His palm ran under the covers and invitingly caressed the smooth curves of her delicate body he knew so very well. His gaze tensed and their blue eyes locked. He was waiting for permission, for his imminent next move.

It had always been that way, he would silently ask Cora before making her, his.

He was always so caring when it came to her, and she loved that side of Robert. The side that was only shown in their private four walls, the side of Robert she had deeply fallen in love with. Robert had never meant to hurt her in any way; physically or mentally... or even emotionally. He would ask her to enjoy the pleasure she hadn't known, and the most importantly; she was loved and cherished by him.

Not wasting any more time, Cora reached to brush her palm over his cheek. His eyes were filled with passion while waiting for her to approve. He wanted her and she wanted him too, there was no doubt... and so she lifted her head to touch his lips with hers and captured them in a passionate kiss. Their bedroom filled with moans of passion and groans of love. Their mouths were moving in harmony, as though they couldn't get enough of each other.

That was it. Without any hesitation, their bodies paired. He took her; soul and body.

And then nothing else mattered.

* * *

Totally unaware about the situation that was currently happening in the first class bedroom, Charles and Elsie were getting ready to go upstairs. Their employers had an _important_ guest tonight according to Cora. Charles would have phrased it as _intruder_.

"Have you seen my suit jacket?" Charles quizzed Elsie while he looked around the messy room. Jack had invited another friend, and the four of them were squashed in that room and every possible piece of clothing these two young boys owned was scattered on the floor.

"And have you seen my shoes?" Elsie asked, slightly irritated by the current state that prevailed in their room. Her hands rambled among clothes, papers and books that were lying around the floor searching for the article.

They were talking loudly in their anxiety to find the items.

"Can you please try to be a little less noisy?" Jack's raspy morning voice spoke up from the bed below.

"Can you please try to be a little less messy." Elsie retorted nervously, fearing that they would be late. She almost envied Jack and his friend. Life must be simpler for them. No pressure, no rules or lady lessons, no polite parties. Their lives must be so much easier.

"You two are waking up so early. It's really irritating." Jack murmured, sitting up slightly in the bed. His sleep was disturbed by the loud noises Elsie and Charles produced.

"You forgot that we're here to work." Charles calmly said, still in search of his jacket.

"Your employer is Cora, right?" Jack said through yawns, rubbing his sleepy eyes with his hands.

"Lord and Lady Grantham to you." Charles corrected him, looking extremely annoyed at both Jack and his inability to find his jacket.

"Do you know that man..." Jack trailed off. "Bricker?" As soon as he said the name Elsie turned around, her eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"How do you know about him?" Charles continued, shortly after he received a look from Elsie to behave.

"I'll take that as a _yes_." Jack faked a cough, smiling at their nervousness. "Well, while I was out on the deck, he kind of mentioned Cora."

"Lady Grantham..." Charles murmured to himself.

Elsie once again flashed him a look before continuing. "How do you mean _kind of_?"

"He was planning something with two men and the last thing I heard was the name of _Lady Grantham_." He said pointedly. "He also added that he was invited to first class dinner."

Neither of them said a thing. They were staring into space, trying to process the words and get some sense out of them.

"So what... An average _third class_ passenger is probably getting overexcited over the prospect of a simple first class dinner." Charles said, irritated. He still found it unacceptable for _an intruder_ to be invited to a private dinner with the rest of the family and friends.

"I still don't understand why he would talk about such things with two other men." Elsie took a minute to think about it and then she started to search for her heels again

"Who knows... Third class people..." Charles shook his head. "No offence..." He looked at Jack. Words were coming out of his mouth before he could think about them. Charles and Elsie were third class too, but at the same time they were not.

"None taken." Jack sat in the bed, gazing at the people who continued the conversation in front of his eyes. Both of them were nervous, but still they tried to remain calm for each other's sake. There was something intriguing about them, about their relationship. They held too many secrets and he felt he didn't know anything about them; there was so much untold.

"I have an idea..." Jack smirked. "Tonight at eight, I need both of you to come back here."

"Why?" Both of them said in unison and had a confused look drawn on their features.

"It's a surprise." Jack wickedly smiled while Charles and Elsie exchanged bemused looks. They had no idea what Jack would do.

* * *

Robert pressed his dry lips against her sweaty forehead, and she felt him smile against her skin. Her legs were still slightly trembling and she was struggling to properly catch her breath.

"I'm so glad you brought the tickets, even though I was against going to America..." He murmured, panting beside her. "... but if it continues like this, I won't hesitate going again." His fingers ran through her caramel hair, passion was still running through their veins. He knew that they could continue their lovemaking, but given the circumstances; twice in a day was more than rewarding for both of them.

Robert was blissfully happy and so was Cora. They were still lying together in bed, during what it seemed to be the longest and quietest morning after a very long time.

Cora closed her eyes, snuggling against his chest; allowing her body to rest in his arms.

 _Rest_.

She longed for rest; for sleep. Even though she hadn't noticed, she was exhausted. "We should go more often." Cora muttered, certainly approving his proposal, though her words could barely be understood. She was suddenly drifting off to sleep while his hands protected her body.

Robert looked down at her, noticing her current state. "What are you doing?" He started chuckling, thinking she was teasing him. "We _really_ have to get up now."

She tiredly smiled, making herself even more comfortable in his arms, nuzzling herself in the crook of his neck. Her hand went across his body until she found his hand and entwined their fingers together, slowly drifting away in her sleep.

The morning noises of the Titanic began to reach their ears and echoed through the hallways outside; doors opening, quick steps, familiar voices talking loudly, laughter, giggling, cranky people, kids pattering up and down stairs.

"I never imagined any of this." Cora whispered, her eyes were still closed.

And he knew about what she was talking about. The joy of being here with him, relaxing and enjoying each other's presence, but also the joy of having a family; the one that drove them nuts, but also gave both of them so much happiness.

A disturbing thump followed by a horrible shatter of pottery was heard in the neighboring room and hallway. Rosamund's silvery bell-like voice chimed loudly against the Titanic walls.

" _Patrick_! You just ruined the Louise XVI! Cora is going to be so upset!" Rosamund's angry voice echoed from the hallway. Cora had asked Patrick and Rosamund to move the gift for Martha in James room, and apparently they had broke it on the way.

"Good Lord..." Cora moaned and her eyes fluttered open. _The unique vase for her mother was destroyed_.

Suddenly another voice appeared in the hallway.

It was Rose's delightful, contagious laughter, apparently caused by the scene of Rosamund and Patrick destroying the antiquity. "You're going to be nothing but ashes when Cora finds out." Rose commented aloud, watching the entertaining scene in the hallway.

"Not me, but Patrick! It's entirely his fault! If he had payed attention to where he was going none of this would have happened." Rosamund defended herself.

"Why _only_ me? You didn't tell me about the carpet!" Patrick nervously said, utterly afraid of Cora's reaction. Cora was great, but he didn't want to be present when she lost her temper.

The sounds of Rosamund and Patrick picking up the broken pieces of ceramic reached their ears. Rose helped them too; adding a few amusing questions. They desperately tried to fix it, but nothing worked... they only made it worse.

Robert buried his smile into the top of Cora's head. "We'll buy Martha another one as soon as we get to New York." He softly whispered, struggling not to laugh. "I can't believe you thought hiring those two would be a good idea for anything." Robert couldn't suppress his laughter anymore.

Both of them giggled in bed.

 _Despite the broken vase, everything was perfect_.

... but little did they know that their perfection was on the way to being shaken... _by a lot of good and bad things._

* * *

 _The next chapter will bring some changes into their lives, so review to get an interesting preview. Any thoughts?_


	7. Perception

**A/N:** _Thank you for all the reviews and for continuing to read!_

 _Thanks to my wonderful beta, Gretchie! You're amazing!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER VII**

 _ **Perception**_

 _"...Conversing and thinking,  
on how we are all slowly sinking.  
Everything can go wrong in the matter of blinking..."_

 _ **12 April 1912**_ _ **;**_

Finally, after a very long morning Cora and Robert managed to get out of the bed. In the calmness of the first class bedroom Elsie silently prepared the dress for Lady Grantham. Elsie's slender fingers smoothed the wrinkles on the soft fabric as she laid the dress on the bed.

Cora was standing in front of a large silver mirror, carefully examining her delicate figure. She wasn't the kind to brag about her appearance, and like most women, Cora often doubted her beauty, but her reflection in the mirror seemed to be a totally different person.

She loosened the ribbon of her silky robe and let it slid down her sore body, landing on the carpeted floor. She stood in her white corset and caressed her ivory skin as she rubbed lotion across it. The euphoria of last night replayed itself over and over in her mind. It put her in a bubbly mood.

"Mrs. Hughes..." Cora sweetly called, but Elsie didn't answer. Elsie continued to smooth the dress, not hearing Cora calling her name.

Cora slightly frowned in confusion, her hands moving across her skin. "Mrs. Hughes?" She repeated herself.

"Yes, my lady." Elsie automatically answered, her eyes rising from the fabric in her hands.

"You're quiet today. Is something bothering you?" Cora looked at Elsie though the mirror. The woman looked different, and Cora knew her very well.

"No, not at all." Elsie forced a smiled and approached Cora. She stopped behind her and put her gentle hands on the corset strings with intention to make it tighter.

"You haven't said anything about your accommodations? Are you satisfied?" Cora continued the conversation, curiously looking through the mirror at the woman behind her.

"It's nice. People are very kind..." She continued murmuring. "...at least some of them."

Cora placed both of her hands on her hips when Elsie gently started pulling the strings. "And yesterday..." Cora grinned. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you and Carson were out together."

Elsie slightly blushed and fixed her gaze on Cora's corset. The pink shade on her pale cheeks already gave Cora an answer. Elsie hated to be predictable or to blush like that every time somebody said his name. She thought that she had grown out of that troublesome habit decades ago."You're not wrong, my lady. We just went out for a walk."

Cora slightly chuckled and that caught Elsie's attention. "I have never seen you so twisted over a man before. You must really like him to be leading him on like you have."

"Nonsense." Elsie said abruptly and frowned. That was one way to look at it, she supposed. Of course she hadn't thought to look at it that way before and she wasn't sure if she wanted to.

Cora slightly brushed her caramel hair with her fingers, freeing it from any tangles. "Then can you explain Carson's strange mood yesterday night?" Cora felt Elsie tightening the grip on her. "He looked strangely at me... at us." Cora could see that the woman wasn't comfortable. Something was bothering her... and Carson, and Cora had no idea what it was. The woman behind her looked more furious than sad. Now, Cora was sure that something had definitely happened.

Elsie let out a nervous chuckle and she tilted her head, avoiding the discomfort in the room. "Just ignore Mr. Carson. He thinks that inviting Mr. Bricker to dinner was a wrong move. He doesn't like him so that is why he feels like that."

Cora eyebrows furrowed, looking through the mirror at the women behind her. "He saved my life and offering him dinner was the most insignificant thing I could do."

Elsie could tell by Cora's tone that she was slightly annoyed, and Elsie had only told her one part of why Carson was strange to her. Now, she didn't dare to mention that he also thought Cora had something with that man. Elise's mind was full of questions she didn't know the answer on, but asking them would only cause more troubles.

Elsie only silently prayed that Carson didn't mention anything to Robert. If Carson's theory reached his ears she could only imagine what would go through Robert's mind. It would be a disaster to think that Cora had done something with Bricker.

Elsie didn't believe it though... _Well, kind of_... She knew her Ladyship for decades and she wasn't that kind of a woman... _or at least she thought so_... Cora could never do such a thing. She loved Robert too dearly to ever think about somebody new... _somebody better_.

There was silence for a long time. Elise had her eyes firmly fixed on the strings as she pulled them tighter and tighter each time. The tight bindings didn't inhibit Elsie's fury at all.

Cora tried to suppress the gasps that filled the silence in the room each time Elsie pulled the strings. It was so tight that Cora could barely breathe.

Cora looked once more at the woman behind her. It was clear that what she had told her wasn't even the half of the story. Elsie was furious for another reason, and Cora couldn't understand it.

There was a loud knock on that broke the silence before the door of Cora's bedroom flew open. The fiery redhead carefully entered the room, making her way to the bed. Rosamund's green eyes somehow avoided Cora's as she slowly sat on the bed. Her face was emotionless, but her eyes still revealed fear. The most awkward atmosphere floated into the room.

"Something happened -" Cora unwilling paused when Elsie pulled the strings again. "to you too?" Cora raised her eyebrows and lightly chuckled, noticing that everyone were in a bad mood that morning.

"Well..." Rosamund nervously smiled, clenching her hands. "I'll tell you if you promise me that you won't make a big deal about it. "

"You and Patrick broke my Louis XIV." Cora added a half smile looking at Rosamund's priceless face expressions.

Rosamund's jaw slightly dropped open. "It wasn't on purpose!" She rose her gaze and fixed it on Cora. Rosamund's green eyes looked pleadingly at her. "But how do you know?"

Cora looked back at her through the mirror, flashing her a half smile. "The crack was so loud that I'm sure everyone around had heard it... And your arguing afterwards."

"But we're really sorry..." Rosamund muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. "...even though it was entirely Patrick's fault."

Elsie and Cora exchanged ridiculous looks and laughed softly. "Don't worry. I'm not angry..." Cora raised her eyebrow. "...at least, not that much."

Rosamund let out a relieved sigh, shifting in the rest of her weight on the mattress. She chuckled a little.

"Are you coming to dinner tonight?" Cora asked, amused while Elsie fastened the dress around her.

Rosamund let out a sigh and cleared her throat awkwardly. "I still can't believe that you invited him..." She said under her breath. She wasn't pleased with Cora's decision at all... and she wasn't the only one.

"We won't discuss that topic again." Cora retorted. "It was my decision." She said, brushing the wrinkles from her dress.

"You have no idea who he is." Rosamund continued. She had a feeling that Cora was enjoying that man's company too much. She remembered the conversation they had on the deck. Cora was talking to him so casually that it was annoying Rosamund. She couldn't help herself.

"I know him well enough to see that he's a decent man I have a lot in common with." With that Cora focused her gaze at her figure in the mirror. She scrunched up her nose, frustrating herself.

Elsie instantly snapped her head up to meet the husky voice. She detected a hint of something in her eyes, fire maybe - burning in her eyes before she blinked and it was gone. It didn't take a mind reader to know what Cora was thinking or feeling. Her thoughts and feelings were far from the truth she was telling Rosamund.

 _This is not good_...

* * *

In the room next to Cora's, Charles and Robert were talking quietly. Charles handed a white formal shirt to Robert and he wrapped it around his shoulders. The clean, silky fabric slid down his upper body as he made his way to the mirror.

"Were you enjoying your free evening with Mrs. Hughes yesterday? We saw the two of you on the deck." Robert asked easily, slowly buttoning the buttons on his shirt.

"We were just taking a stroll, milord." Charles said calmly, though he thanked God Robert couldn't see his face at that moment. His heart skipped a beat at Robert's words, but he brushed it off. _Is it really that obvious?_

Charles didn't know how to best express the mess inside of himself right then. He had had two days to make sense of his feelings and yet... no solutions came to mind. He felt just as confused as ever when somebody mentioned her name.

On one hand, _let's be honest shall we?_ Elsie was one of the most attractive women Charles had ever seen in his life. _Scratch that_ \- she was _the most_ attractive. Any sane man would want to go out with her. And she was so kind. She was a bit teasing, too. Elsie was one of the few people that could make Charles blush or laugh.

But on the other hand... She was his colleague, his friend; for years, for decades. What if that was compromised because of his deeper affections? It wasn't an easy decision at all.

"Just a stroll between colleagues, milord."

Robert chuckled, shaking his head. "That doesn't sound very truthful." He pulled his sleeves down a little bit so his shirt fitted more snugly on his body.

Charles nodded resolutely. "It's nothing at all, milord." He assured him, handing a tie to Robert.

"Then why do I have a feeling you want to share something with me?" Robert fixed his collar and wrapped the tie around it that perfectly matched his shirt. "Is something troubling you?"

"Actually, yes." Charles mumbled, preparing the jacket for Robert. "It's only one thing..." He inhaled and paused for effect before speaking again. "Bricker."

Robert looked at Charles through the mirror, his eyebrows narrowed and eyes flashing a irritated look. "The man who is joining us today at dinner?" He adjusted his tie.

"Unfortunately." Charles murmured.

"I noticed that you're not pleased with Cora's decision." Robert focused his attention on his neck where he made a double knot out of the expensive tie. "But why?"

"There is just something about him that is very repulsive."

"Can you be more specific?"

Charles paused again, not sure if he should continue. "Can I be completely honest with you, Milord?"

That caught Robert's attention. "Of course." He looked up in expectation, waiting for Carson's next sentence.

"I think there is something improper going on between her Ladyship and Mr. Bricker." After saying this sentence, Charles felt some kind of burden leaving his chest. It was easier to share his thoughts with someone, but he did not know if Robert was the right person for that.

"I'm not sure what his intentions are, but he seems very forward with her." Charles continued in a serious tone. He sounded confident, as though that would excuse everything. Robert's heart beat so fast, he thought it would stop altogether.

Robert pretended not to be affected by the words, but he inwardly cringed. He had the feeling of fear course through him for the first time in a while. But overpowering that was a wave of disbelief. Not that Robert didn't believe, he knew that Charles was serious and that utterly terrified him. He couldn't stand it.

"Are you trying to say that he intends to -" Robert stopped, he could even manage to say the word but he felt himself losing his composure from the sole thought of that happening.

"Perhaps." Charles already answered Robert's question, even though he didn't finish it he knew what he wanted to ask. Robert's jaw set and he looked irritated again, he stared coldly; almost angrily.

Charles approached him and held out a suit jacket for him. Robert slipped both of his hands through the sleeves of it and adjusted it onto his shoulders.

He turned around so he gazed at Charles face to face. Robert looked unsure and melancholy. He looked at him for a long moment before he managed to form a sentence. "Thank you for telling me that."

After his words there was nothing else to be heard beside a deaf silence that reigned in the room. Robert decided to leave the salon, to compose his thoughts again.

Charles just stared blankly after him. He was thinking and rethinking his words over and over again. This calmness wasn't a good sign.

 _Oh, what I have done_...

* * *

The noon sun made the air a little warmer, but the mornings on the ocean were still unbelievably cold. She walked over to the railing, but this time much carefully. It reached over the main deck of the ship. She saw a few steerage passengers happily enjoying themselves on it. Small children kicked around a ball that was almost as large as them, while a few adults were caught up in a friendly card game.

She headed toward the main deck. The children from second and third class played happily closer toward the middle of the deck. First class children wouldn't be playing with them. Not when they were brainwashed to be prim and proper, as Cora put it, since they were young. They wouldn't be allowed to play even if they wanted to.

She sat herself down on one of the wooden benches and crossed her legs. It was a cold morning, but the coat around her kept her warm. She felt a strange sensation all of the sudden, like something or someone was watching her, but when she turned around, nobody was there.

Cora dismissed that thought and watched the children all dance around. The girls were stepping in time to an invisible tune while the boys played ball. A small smile grew on her face as she watched them.

Cora was watching the delightful games of the kids when a young boy around the age of four or five ran in from the side. He had tears on his pretty face and looked panicked.

"Mama?" The boy called hysterically. Judging by the way he was dressed, he was a third class passenger. The boy had brown trousers and dirty white long sleeved shirt, but it was too much thin for walking around in this weather. He needed a jacket. No one was close enough to hear him besides Cora. "Mama!" He called out again.

Cora quickly jumped onto her feet and ran to him. The boy saw her and ran to her for help. She knelt down in front of him.

The boy had tears running down his red baby cheeks. Cora put her hands on his little shoulder and back, trying to soothe him gently. "Shhh..." She softly said. "Everything is alright. Now... what happened?"

More tears flowed down his cheeks as his chin trembled. "I can't find my m-mama." He stammered through sobs, but Cora smiled reassuringly.

"Calm down sweetie. We'll find her." She lovingly whispered. "Now, what's your name, darling?"

"Richard. My mama's Ida Straus. I lost her and I can't find her." He sobbed while Cora wiped away the tears from his pink cheeks.

She took off her coat and put it around his tiny shoulders. He gawked at her, like he didn't expect of her to be so kind. Cora knelt once again so she could be at his eye level. "I'm Cora." She smiled heartily. "It's so nice to meet you." Cora shook his little hand. She was trying to distract him from his current troubles, which worked because he smiled back at her.

Cora carefully stood up and held the boy in her arms. She embraced him tightly and her hand went to caress the blond curls that shone a bright gold in the sun. She walked up the stairs and into the first class dining room while Richard's hands squeezed her around the neck.

He stared at everything in both amazement and fear. Cora could tell he was in awe of being in a place of such luxury and class. She walked to a nearby waiter. "Excuse me?" Cora casually said, catching his attention. "Is there anyone by the name of Ida Straus? I've found her son and he said his mother is missing."

The waiter looked relieved. "Yes, she's down the hall with security. They sent a few people out earlier to look for little Richard. His mother looks to be on the verge of fainting by now." He pointed them down the hall and she nodded her thanks. The boy seemed to calm down when his head was rested on Cora's shoulder. She slowly turned her head and gazed tenderly at the young boy. He felt safe in her embrace. His tiny arms hugged her tighter.

 _Sometimes, I wish that Robert and I could.._. Cora bit her lower lip, stopping herself from thinking any more. She knew that that wasn't a subject she should breach in that moment. It would only make her distraught. She held the boy closer to her while the unpleasant thoughts were running through her mind. Of course, she and Robert had talked about it many times before and the conversation was always a fruitless one filled with sadness and resignation. It was no worth undergoing the same grim thoughts and subjecting herself to more heartache.

They walked into a large room at the end of the hall. "Mama!" The boy squealed. Cora lowered him onto the floor. He instantly flew into the arms of a young woman that shared his blond curls and dark eyes. The mother hugged her son and swung him around. "Oh, my boy."

The woman was crying too. She had been sick with worry. The woman looked up at Cora. She ran over to her and kissed her cheeks with a warm smile drawn across her face. Cora was a little taken aback, but she smiled warmly back. The woman spoke up with a slight German accent. "Oh, thank you for finding my son. How can I thank you?"

Cora shook her head. "No, there's no need. I'm pleased that he's alright." Cora smiled and knelt down once again when she saw that Richard ran up towards her. He hugged her tightly and made a move to remove his coat, but Cora stopped him. "Keep it." She said with a smile. Cora knew that the coat was more necessary to them than to her. The mother looked beyond grateful.

Cora stood up and nodded to them both. "It was nice meeting you." The woman nodded back with tears of gratitude in her eyes as Cora left the room.

It made her feel good to see the two reunited. She smiled at the thought.

Cora was starting to head back to her state room when she felt that odd sensation again. It gave her chills. She slowly turned her head and looked behind her, seeing a man. He looked to be either steerage or crewmen. He was walking briskly in her direction and was staring directly at her.

She turned around and walked faster and faster. Cora passed a million doors and still couldn't remember the way out of the huge labyrinth. She glanced back and saw that he was still behind her. Each time she looked back at him, he fixed his gaze at his feet, avoiding eye contact with her.

Cora passed a cross section in the hallway and coming up on either side was one more man. She started to slightly panic and walked even more faster, almost running.

Cora walked down a long hallway and noticed that there was only one door at the end. There was no sounds of anyone else around and she started to feel more and more scared. Her breathing increased, she felt like she could faint in that moment.

Cora looked behind and the two men were heading her way. Panicked, she ran to the door at the end of the hall and tried to open it. The handle wouldn't budge. "No, no, no!" Cora muttered to herself. She turned around, breathing heavily and she fearfully pressed her back to the door. The men were halfway down the hall, coming toward her. _What now?_

* * *

 **A/N:** _Suspenseful, isn't it? In this chapter I introduced two new characters: Ida and Richard. **I don't own these characters because they were real.** They were actual people who were travelling from Germany to America and died in sinking of The Titanic on April 14._

 _Hope it was worth the wait. Favourite line/scenes? Let me know what you think, and leave a review for me and you get the preview. More Chelsie is coming soon, don't worry and don't forget that Jack is planning something for them! :)_


	8. Suspicion

_**A/N** : Big thanks to Gretchie for taking her_ _time and correcting this one._

 _And thanks to you, awesome reader for continuing to read and review this story, you make my day. Also, big thanks to all my guest reviewers. Thank you for leaving a comment even though you don't have an account. It means a lot, truly._

* * *

 **CHAPTER VIII**

 ** _Suspicion_**

 _"...It is unsinkable, many were led to believe,_

 _Others, however were not quite as naive._

 _Saying, no God could sink this ship,_

 _But this beauty could not even last one trip..."_

 _ **12 April 1912 ;**_

The men advanced. They were smirking at each other and Cora snorted in disgust. They stopped about two meters away from her.

"Well, look 'ere. What's an elegant lady like you doing down 'ere?" The two men exchanged looks. "You are in the wrong section of the ship, Miss." They grinned to each other again.

"I apologise," Cora's voice trembled as she forced the words out of her mouth. "I will head back to my room and bother you no more." Cora took a step forward, intending to walk between them and disappear but they blocked her way.

The man who had spoken laughed. "No, no. You're first class, aren't you? Don't get many fine ones like you around where we come from." They came closer and Cora pressed her back against the door. She didn't want to think what they might do to her. The images that were skirting through her head utterly terrified her.

Cora didn't know any defensive techniques, not that many women like her were taught such things. She thought about charging past them, but both of the men were solid. She was much smaller and probably wouldn't make it past them in such a narrow hallway. Cora considered yelling for help but decided to save that as a last resort. That would make her appear weak, and she needed every advantage at the moment. She started to panic as more and more awful things run through her head, but she tried to remain strong on the outside. Cora coldly glared at them. "Don't you dare touch me, you stupid oafs!" She hissed.

They both laughed again and Cora stood there motionless. One of them walked closer until he was just a breath away from her face. She cowered under his large stature. "Or what, sweetheart?" He asked and put his hand on her hip, tightening his grip on her. His head moved, trying to find the way to her neck; breathing in her perfume.

Cora exhaled sharply. He was disgusting. She couldn't bear the thought of him touching her. His sticky, dirty hands on her delicate body. She felt his hot breath against her bare skin, tickling her on the same spot Robert had this morning.

Cora opened her mouth to scream as loud as possible but her throat was dry and a hoarse squeak came out instead. She saw him raising his hand to strike her and her knees buckled. She sank to the floor and threw up her hands to protect herself. She closed her eyes, bracing herselft for the strike that would come. Cora heard a horrible scream and a few grunts of pain followed by the sound of breaking glass. She squeezed her eyes tighter and curled toward the corner.

She was shivering from shock, feeling lightheaded until she found enough courage to open her eyes. She saw her husband kneeling in front of her, his expression worried.

"Darling..." His voice was a balm to her ears. Cora threw herself into his arms, relieved to see him. She closed her teary eyes and buried her head in his shoulder, waiting for the dizziness to stop. "Robert..." She muttered into his shoulder.

At first, he was frozen in shock himself, but he slowly and carefully wrapped his strong arms around her and held her close to him. Robert rubbed her back as she sobbed onto his shoulder. He whispered condolences and reassurances, and pulled her gently into his lap.

Cora didn't know for how long they sat there in silence, but she felt like never moving. Robert saved her life and she was beyond grateful. After a while, Robert put his arms around her hips and pulled her back onto her feet. He looked closely into her sapphire eyes. "Are you alright?" He wiped away her tears and she nodded. Her breath was shaky and she looked at him through her blurry vision.

Suddenly, in one fluid movement he scooped her up, not sure if she was really alright. Robert walked back down the hallway. She pressed her face back against his shoulder and looked down the hallway behind him as he walked. The two men were lying limply in the hallway, scattered around them were the pieces of glass. Whether they were dead or just unconscious, she didn't know. Cora closed her eyes until they were out of sight.

Robert walked very quickly and he kissed the top of her head, but he didn't say a word. He was silent all the time, his gaze firmly fixed forward. Within a few seconds, they were back in the same room where Cora left little Richard. Of course, the family had left by now but a few policemen were still standing in the doorway. They looked up in shock as Robert carried her into the room.

"Call a doctor!" yelled one.

Cora lightly shook her head in disapproval. "It's just shock. There's no need."

"Then you've been in shock for a couple of days it seems." Robert murmured as he gently seated her onto a cushioned chair. Cora understand what he wanted to say, _or at least she thought so_ , but she couldn't recognise him. Robert looked strangely at her, maybe even disappointedly. Cora knew that she did wrong... _again_.

Robert didn't talk, he only murmured a few words. He was silent all the time, but his movements also relieved worry. Perhaps because of shock, perhaps of fear or disappointment. Cora didn't know.

He was absent even though he was right beside her. She could sense that Robert avoided any conversation or her explanation of the past event.

One of the policemen tapped Robert's shoulder, giving him a sign to talk. They moved out into the hallway, leaving Cora in the room. After Robert left without a single word, a young woman in white nurse's uniform stood beside her.

"Are you alright, lady?" She took Cora's wrist to check her pulse. "You aren't hurt?"

"No..." Cora shook her head, looking at the ceiling.

"Are you feeling headache or any other pains?" The nurse held up a stethoscope to her chest.

"Dizziness, but only because of my corset. It's too tight." Cora lightly smiled, remembering how Elsie relieved her frustration on her corset earlier that morning and pulled it just a little bit too tight.

The woman listened to Cora's heartbeat for a few more moments before she relaxed. She smiled, giving her a couple of instructions on how to keep herself calm and with that she moved away.

Cora saw Robert speaking quietly to two policemen outside the room. His arms crossed over his chest and his voice was deep, cold... almost lifeless.

Cora looked up at the ceiling. _This is not good at all._ She closed her eyes, trying to regulate her breathing again when she heard footsteps approaching her slowly. "Let's go." Robert's voice echoed in an empty room.

She glanced up at him in surprise. He seemed to relax a little bit, but his eyes still flushed a furious gaze. "Thank you." Cora rose from the chair and looked down, staring at the floor. She didn't know what else to say.

* * *

She stood there for a while, not moving. Elsie leaned against the cold wall, patiently waiting.

 _And waiting..._

But they weren't coming. At first Elsie thought that somehow she made a mistake and mixed up the schedules, but she knew inside she hadn't.

She turned around, her expression confused as her eyes searched between the tables of first class café.

They simply weren't there. None of them.

When she finally decided to head back to her room, thinking that they already left the café, Elsie realised that she was numb. Her legs had fallen asleep after standing in one position for so long. Yet another reminder that she was a pathetic, inferior human, serving others and granting their wishes while neglecting her own dreams. She shrugged at herself and tried to banish the self-pity thoughts from her mind.

She walked down the hall and stepped onto the stairs that connected two different worlds. The line between them was physically thin, but the difference between the two lifestyles was billions of miles.

She paused for a moments before she overheard some whispers coming from below. She wasn't the type to eavesdrop, but the sound of the voices piqued her curiosity. They sounded familiar.

"But if she loves me too, then we will find a way to be together. She's different. I have a strong feeling that she will understand." A man's voice said seriously.

Another voice appeared, talking louder. "You have no idea what you did. It could've ended much worse. What were you thinking?"

She walked quietly down the stairs while staying hidden. The conversation was coming from behind the thin doors of a third class room. The doors were slightly ajar, but it was closed tight enough that the people behind them still stayed undiscovered.

"It was an excellent plan." Elsie could hear a harsh exhale. "It was just the wrong timing."

There was a long pause before she heard another voice. "Well, it's definitely ruined now." It sounded cold and shaky. She could actually imagine the person behind the door shaking its head.

Elsie stopped when she reached the end of the stairs. She stood in the middle of the hallway, trying to decide whether she should just let it go and continue down the hallway or stay and listen to the interesting conversation in the room near.

 _It's none of my business._ She thought and took another step forward. Her heel touched the floor and there was a sudden crack of glass, echoing all over the hallway. She immediately looked at her feet, seeing scattered glass all over the floor.

 _Well, third class. Nothing new._ She smiled at herself.

The soft whispers instantly stopped and there was a silence before she heard another pair of footsteps coming toward her.

"Where were you?" She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned her head sharply.

"They didn't come to the cafe so I headed back to my room." Elsie studied Charles' face. He looked worried... or even nervous. This was out of character. "Did something happened?" Her eyebrows furrowed, waiting for an answer.

"Lady Grantham..." He took in another breath to stead his voice. He looked deeply into her eyes. "It seems that the luck doesn't serve her very well these days." Charles tilted his head, giving her a sign that he would explain later.

Elsie's nodded and gaze tensed. "Where is she?"

"In the security room at the end of the hallway."

Elsie instantly rose on her toes to look over his shoulder. "They're coming."

Cora and Robert passed them and Cora gave Elsie a look to follow her. Her face was lifeless, her eyes giving a cold, sad stare. Robert didn't look any different though. He looked at Cora who walked in front of him. He studied her movements for a moment before uncomfortably looking down at his feet.

Elsie made a face, turning her head to Charles. "What is happening?"

" _Well_..." Charles seemed uncomfortable too, but his stare increased intensely. He finally spoke as causally as before, but his stare didn't lessen.

It took her a moment to realise what he was pointing... or even hiding. When she finally realised, she felt like being washed with icy cold water. Her lips slightly parted and her blue eyes opened in disbelief. "You told him, didn't you?" Her tone tensed as well as her eyes.

"Elsie." Charles seemed to grow more confident once he said her name. "He has every right to know." He said roughly. She snapped her mouth shut, making an irritated clicking sound. She looked into his face. Was he joking? No, he was deadly serious. His jaw was clenched and his blue eyes were sure.

"It's just your imagination. Lady Grantham has no feelings for the stranger." She shrugged slightly, trying to keep her composure. Elsie knew that her words weren't completely true. She had noticed the connection between them too, but she would never admit it. Especially not now and not to him. "You only made more damage."

She didn't know what else to say or do, where to go, or what to think. She stood there for a while, not moving. Her legs just felt too heavy to make a move.

* * *

Their rooms was deadly calm... _once_ _again_. Cora was lying in their bed, relaxing among the soft pillows. She was still in shock from the last event. The lights and colours of twilight were illuminating their room through the glass windows. When she completely evaluated the situation in her head, Cora just then realised in what danger she had been. She also noticed that Robert was upset. She was sure if they were at Downton that he would probably sleep in his dressing room that night.

There was a cup of tea on her nightstand Mrs. Hughes had left a few moments earlier. She looked at Robert who was sitting on the armchair in front of her while she took a sip of the tea. His eyes were firmly fixed at the papers and his eyebrows narrowed as he read and signed them. She could see that he was trying to calm himself in his own way. He was trying to be deeply interested in what he was reading or doing, but Cora knew that this was only a way to camouflage other feelings.

 _Why is he acting like this? I'm fine now, but he seems to be angry with me, not just the men._.. She silently thought. Cora didn't enjoy this silence anymore and she inwardly scowled. She was annoyed and confused at the moment, but he didn't even notice.

Cora honestly felt like hitting someone. This silence was getting on her nerves. She drained her tea and let out a loud irritated huff, giving Robert a warning to notice her current state.

In that moment he picked up another paper and read it all over again, his mind and eyes deeply immersed between the lines and words.

Slightly disappointed, Cora stared down into her empty cup. She wanted to talk with him, she really did, but it was impossible while he was acting like a baby. Cora was getting more and more irritated until she decided to slam the cup onto the nightstand, this time loudly calling for his attention.

"Cora?" He finally asked and looked up at her. "Are you doing fine?"

She breathed a sigh, but at least he noticed. "Robert... Can we please stop... whatever this is and actually talk like adults?"

"There's nothing to talk about." He sighed in exasperation.

Cora frowned, her mind drowned in confusion. "Then why are you mad at me? Did I offend you by going onto the third class deck?"

"I'm not mad at you." Robert inhaled deeply and stood up, heading toward their bed. It was finally time to talk to her. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he really needed some courage.

"Are you sure?" Cora looked pleadingly at him as he sat right beside her. His body language and words were telling and showing two completely different things. She couldn't put it together even though she hardly tried.

Robert turned his head and looked at his wife. He could see that she was trying to fix the current situation between them. "I was never mad at you."

Her eyebrows furrowed once again. He wasn't making any sense. "Than what are you?"

Robert looked away, avoiding her tense gaze. "Hurt."

Her look softened at his words. "I didn't know I would be attacked, Robert. No one could know that. I was only trying to help that little boy and find my way back to the room from the security office."

"No, you couldn't have." He sighed again and she felt like he didn't understand her intentions and why she did it. "The policemen said that those men weren't in the passenger books. They weren't crewmen either." He carefully put his hand over hers and softly squeezed it. "They were stowaways most likely, but at least you're safe now."

Cora didn't answer, she just kept staring at their clenched hands. She felt like she was five again, being scolded for wandering off. But Robert knew that she had that soft spot for children. What kind of a mother would she be if she left the little boy alone.

"When I only think about things they could do to you..." He paused, thinking and repeating the scenes his own imagination had made in his mind. "I'm sorry, but I can't bare the thought."

Cora looked at him. She completely understood his fear and she was scared herself.

"Now, at least try to rest until that ghastly dinner." Robert let out a huff and stood up, freeing her hand from his hold. She looked disappointedly at him. Cora thought that he would snuggled next to her, but he just went away. Like he wasn't mad at her, but didn't want to be close to her either.

"Don't forget that you invited a special friend of yours." She just stared at him while he walked away and took the place he left a few moments earlier. To be honest, Robert's behaviour puzzled her the most. His mood were changing so quickly. In the morning they were perfectly fine, acting closer than ever. Now, it felt like he was running away from her, not wanting to make any close contact.

She shook her head and looked at him walking away. Cora closed her eyes and tried to picture herself in America, but she couldn't. She could only see the Titanic, the starts, and Robert. She shook her head to clear it again. This was going to be an unpleasant night for her, she could sense it.

Robert sat opposite of her. He watched her eyes grew heavier and heavier until she completely closed them over her crystal eyes. He wanted more than anything to be close to her and cradle her in his arms, to give her security, but he couldn't. His dignity and his mind didn't let him while his heart was beating hard for her, seeking for her love and tenderness. His felt like a prisoner of his own mind and his heart locked inside his ribs.

He won't lie, but he still blamed her. Perhaps ignoring her wasn't the most clever answer, but he was hurt. Besides, Carson's words still rang inside his head and as the silence grew quieter and Cora's breathing slowed, the words inside his head became lauder and lauder. He couldn't just drown them and act like nothing had happened at all.

 _So she's still claiming that she went down there because of the baby._ He thought about her words, but were they true? He didn't know...

* * *

Elsie chewed on the end of her pencil, occasionally tapping her lower lip with it. She hadn't thought that hard for a long time. She was staring at the blank paper while it remained empty. Elsie drummed her fingertips agains the wooden desk in the corner of their tiny room. She didn't know why she couldn't express herself and her feelings. Why she couldn't write?

 _Maybe nervousness?_

 _Anxiety?_

 _... Or simply emptiness?_

Perhaps her feelings couldn't be put on the paper, wrapped in simple words. They were stronger, much stronger than words would ever be.

She brought the charcoal pencil she _borrowed_ from Jack to the white, empty piece of paper.

 _Alright Elsie, focus! This should not be that hard_. She inhaled as much as her chest allowed her and finally she pulled the first line on the whiteness.

She formally put his name and the date on the top of the paper. She felt like she was in the school again. Elsie almost wanted to put a class number or professor's name there too. _Focus!_

 _Strengths : He smells good. His ocean eyes. He's flirtatious and fun. He makes jokes about Thomas. He's proper._

 _Weaknesses : He's sometimes immature and childish. Nothing bothers him more than mess and poor organisation. He's cocky. He made people think that Cora has an affair. He's flirtatious!_

Elsie sighed in frustration, leaning back in her chair and stretched her shoulders. _Alright, so it looks like... five against five. You have got to be kidding me! So, my feelings can't aid me at all?_

"Immature, confusing man!" Elsie said aloud and broke the wooden pencil in half out of anger.

And then she jumped because as soon as the last word was out of her mouth, she heard steps behind her. She turned as fast as possible, checking who it was but with her eyes half closed out of fear. _Don't let it be Charles. Don't let it be Charles_.

 _Jack_.

Of course it wasn't Charles. Just because she was thinking of him, she automatically thought he would be thinking of her too. Ridiculous.

"Lovebird is angry? Sad? Annoyed?" He added a half smile and approached. His calmness was radiant.

"Don't ask questions." She rolled her eyes.

"Fine, fine." He grumbled under his breath and stopped a meter away from her, noticing the paper "Can I read it?"

"No." Her eyebrows furrowed.

"You don't trust me?" He asked flatly, but he didn't sound offended, or even vaguely curious. She was getting the impression he didn't really care.

 _He's messing with me. The gentleman is trying to make me feel awkward._

He was sort of looking at her. It felt like looking at her, but past her at the same time. If that was even possible.

"Do I have a reason to?" Elsie asked, teasing him with an arched eyebrow. The words came out a little snottier than she intended, but whatever. These two were masters at unconsciously teasing each other.

Elsie didn't really see the shift, but she knew that it had happened because Jack was now looking at her, right at her. One side of his mouth twitched in a sort of, almost, kind of smile, before he muttered. "Fair enough."

She caught him smirking and redirecting his look at the paper. _He won't let it go..._ They eyes met and his narrowed at her, which was freaky, and really very menacing. Her heart rate definitely just ratcheted up a few more notches, nervously expecting his next move. Her breath started to feel a bit short, but she was not looking away. She knew that he wanted to read it and if she moved her eyes from him, he would definitely do something unpredictable.

 _My level of stubborn can kick his level of crazy..._

He was not going to look away. He was never going to look away. They would just sit there in some ridiculous staring up contest forever.

 _Perhaps I should look away. No, I'm not looking away._ She wasn't losing whatever this was. He could be as scary, and as creepy, and as weird as he wanted, but she was going to win. _You're going down... and you're going to be crushed when you get there. Focus Elsie, focus!_

Then his expression changed, it was a little more... appraising? Which was followed by a bit of a smirk, or possibly a grimace, she thought it was a smirk though. And then he looked away.

The tension, and fear, and generally weirdness that had built up just evaporated, and Elsie couldn't help but laugh and looked at her lap. If he read what she wrote, he would tease her forever.

" _Gotcha_!" Jack's voice cracked in silence and as fast as possible he grabbed the piece of paper when she wasn't looking.

She instantly snapped her head up. "You didn't!" She turned her head at the empty desk. _He did!_ He was a good actor, she had to admit.

Elsie rose from the chair, desperately wanting to reach the paper in his hands but unsuccessfully. He held it over his head so that she couldn't grab it away from him, which was exactly what she was trying to do by this point. And he was so stinking tall that her efforts were completely futile. Elsie wasn't go to get that list back until he handed it to her... or until she grew longer arms.

"Just give it back, Jack!" She whined.

"Just as soon as you tell me what it is."

She sneered. "It's non of your business." Elsie informed him icily.

"Probably not." Jack shrugged. "But I'm _really_ curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat." She grumbled.

He chuckled, his arms still above his head. "Haven't you killed enough cats today, lovebird?"

Jack continued before she had time to retort. "Besides I've always seen myself more as a mountain lion."

Elsie rolled her eyes. _Of course_. "Still in the feline family."

"And there she goes again with her technicalities." He shrugged again.

She sighed. "Just give me the list, Jack." Elsie pleaded. Yes - she had resorted to pleading. _He shall pay for this moment._

Jack ignored her request and focused his eyes on the paper.

" _Charles, 12. April, '12._ " He read loudly and continued. " _He's flirtatious! He's funny!"_

" _He's a friend._ " Elsie responded, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What kind of friend? Jack asked and furrowed his eyebrows at her.

"The friendly kind." She answered lightly, her expression annoyed.

" _Seriously?_ " He laughed.

"Are you making fun of me?" Elsie said with a fake pout.

Jack laughed loudly at that, waiting until it died down to a chuckle to answer her question. "Of course I am."

"Childish." She muttered under her breath, but just loud enough so he can hear it.

He laughed again, quietly this time, and said. "Can I tell him?"

"Are you insane?" Elsie's jaw dropped, her eyes narrowed.

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?" He said almost begging.

She sighed. "No."

"Why not?"

"What is there to tell really?" Elsie demanded. "We just went out on a walk."

"And you're going on a date tonight." Jack grinned mischievously.

"What?" Elsie asked completely confused.

"What?" Jack repeated, not giving her a proper answer, probably teasing her again. "Gotta go."

The doors slammed before she managed to process his words and recover from the shock. In just a second she was once again alone in the room with a billion of questions running through her mind.

* * *

 _ **A/N** : __I'm sorry again for the late update. Please, leave me a review and tell me what you think_ _(I accept Anon. reviews, too! So you do not need an account to review)_ _. It would mean the world to me. Also, Review and get a Preview._

 _Have a wonderful day!_


	9. Beautiful Delights have Violent Ends

**A/N: **_Hello all, I know it has been a while since I updated and I am sorry. Personal issues forced me to stop writing. Now that things are better, it's never too late to finish what I began. I mean life gets in the way and so does writers' block but time mainly got away from me. I am really sorry that it has been so long and I understand your frustrations as readers. From now the updates should be coming a bit faster. However, for those who continue on with this journey, I thank you. Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! They keep me motivated._

 _Also, big thanks goes to_ **Courtland** _for her super-beta powers. You're brilliant!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER IX**

 ** _Beautiful Delights have Violent Ends_**

 _"A symphony plays inside my head,_

 _I dance with partners long since dead._

 _They take my hand and we dance on air,_

 _I close my eyes and I am there._

 _Lost in time."_

 _ **12, April 1912;**_

The dress was perfect, it sat on her body as if it had been made for her. Its satin folds hugged her figure; following her curves, the deep blue of it was gorgeous against her ivory skin. Her low-cut dress showed off her neck and shoulders, her arms shrouded in white gloves that came well above the elbow.

Gentle curls of her caramel hair were pinned up in a messy bun. As one mischievous curl fell out of its place, Cora's hand travelled up and her fingertips touched the pins that held it. A few dark curls danced around her shoulders, she really looked angelic.

Random memories started flowing into her mind at a rapid rate; the warmth around her heart spread throughout her whole body and nostalgia started pricking at her like the pins she wore in her caramel hair.

They walked along the balcony and that's when Cora noticed that they were at the grand staircase. She gazed in wonder at the golden architecture and the wonderful clock, adored in angels, at the top of the stairs. Her breath was stolen by these angels, it was like they wanted to take her with them; but she was already rather taken away by the splendid interior in front of her.

Overhead was the enormous glass dome with a crystal chandelier sitting at its centre. It was, of its time, the epitome of opulent naval architecture.

Robert was standing next to her, his head slowly turning, and he looked at her pure face. He could see that she was in awe - her eyes wandering and her cherry lips slightly parted.

Cora noticed his blue eyes on her and she turned to face him. The love and affection that sparkled within his eyes was unfathomable and she couldn't look away. Their eyes locked together and for this moment there was nothing and no-one who could break it.

"Dear Lord..." he sighed. "You look beautiful, love." Robert knew that beautiful wasn't even nearly close to how she looked, but he couldn't think of anything better at that moment. His mind stopped; it felt like she had hypnotised him.

Cora smiled and stopped at the top of the grand staircase. She took the hand he offered her and looped her hand through his, taking a step forward. Together they walked down the large steps. Cora rose her head and she thought her stomach did a flip when she saw who waited at the bottom... _Simon_.

She had to admit that he looked quite handsome. The black suit complimented him nicely. She saw him talking with some first class men, lightly smiling and shaking their hands.

He was nervous, she could feel it, but he never faltered. They all assumed that he was just one of them... a young captain of industry perhaps... new money, obviously, but still a member of the club.

All these people were so predictable. Money only mattered to them, nothing else, and sometimes she couldn't even believe that she belonged in the same pack with them. The sole thought of that made her mad.

When they arrived at the bottom and mixed with the crowd, greeting and meeting new people, Cora gave Bricker a friendly look and gently smiled at him, just as to tell him that she had acknowledged his presence.

Then she glanced at Robert.

Within a moment she was lost in his eyes. Cora could sense that he was relaxed. His hands weren't sweating and his laugh was contagious. Perhaps he didn't even notice Simon...or maybe he was just pretending that he could not see him; it was easier that way, because if he lost control, it would be a fatal mistake.

* * *

It was just like a ballroom at a palace - alive and lit by a constellation of chandeliers, full of elegantly dressed people, and beautiful music from the small orchestra that played in the background.

The dinner was amazing, full of laughter and smiles from random people all around the table. Everyone talked, even Rose, her shyness faltering. The only one who didn't make a lot of noise was Robert. He was very quiet and whenever Cora looked in his direction, she found him glaring at the table. His thoughts were somewhere else, his mind far, far away.

 _What is he thinking?_

He talked to only a few of them, including Rose. She had grown rather fond of him. Robert understood her, and she felt at peace while she was with him. He always made her laugh with his jokes and their little intellectual talks, only few could understand, and it made her heart flutter.

"So I had put the money into the oven, and that's when my husband came home and turned the oven on!" Molly's voice cracked in laughter, everyone else joined in. What Molly had proclaimed had truly fascinated Bricker. They had enough money that if any burned, they were covered.

Simon was seated opposite Cora, who was between Robert and Cal. The dinner was going well until Cora overheard the conversation that was happening behind her back.

" _Robert?_ " Cora heard Cal whispering her husband's name. Cal leaned against the chair so their conversation wouldn't be very noticeable. "What are you hoping to prove, bringing this..." Cal paused, struggling not to laugh. " _bohemian_... up here?"

Robert quietly chuckled on the other side, hoping Cora wouldn't hear it, but it was already too late. "Let's say that he was of some assistance to my wife last night." He whispered.

Cora pretended not to be interested or affected by their conversation. She was actually surprised and quite shocked by Robert's words and behaviour. Why is he acting like this?

Robert sighed and thought, this is going to be... an interesting dinner.

"What?" Cora sharply turned her head to him.

"What?" Robert replied in confusion, taken aback.

She looked straight into his blue eyes, "you sighed."

"Yes, I did. Is that not allowed?"

"As long as it's not expressing anything negative, it's perfectly fine." Cora answered with a small smile.

"Alright." Robert laughed, shaking his head and Cora glared at him again. "What's been happening to you?"

"I haven't fully decided yet." She said easily, leaning against her chair and relaxing her body from all the tension.

"Stop being moody." Robert chuckled and Cora rolled her eyes in response.

Utterly bemused, Robert watched his wife. She had her elbows on the table top and had propped her chin on her folded hands. When she noticed his gaze she mysteriously grinned at him, not saying a word.

"How is it that we're not arguing yet?" Robert said, lightly smiling.

"Must be that you're just terribly lucky." Cora replied drily, matching his tone precisely.

Robert murmured, "Oh yes? You're not going to try and tell me it's fate then?"

Cora pursed her lips. "I don't believe in fate." She said shortly.

This surprised him - somehow he always believed that she had seemed to be the sort that bought into romantic notions of destiny. After all, he thought that they actually had met because of destiny. As though Cora could sense that he had made this assumption she looked at him; a small smirk pulled at her mouth, but she didn't say anything else.

Cora saw that the waiter was approaching and she motioned surreptitiously for Simon to take his napkin off his plate. He smiled at her for helping him, and she sheepishly smiled back.

Robert pretended not to notice the sweet smile she gave Simon, but his feelings...this ugly jealously was stronger than he.

"Well, Mrs. Grantham, I see that you're just as witty this evening as when we left the bed this morning." Robert smirked, slowly studying her expression. He tried to say it as quietly as possible, but he also made sure that one other person could overhear it.

Cora's mouth fell open as she glanced at Simon opposite her who raised one eyebrow, amused. _Was he - Did he...? Robert didn't just mark his claim!_ Cora instantly looked around the table, making sure nobody else had heard Robert's improper words.

"Is that right, Cora?" Robert continued. It seemed that his jealously had his tongue.

She blushed, narrowing her eyes at him, giving him a warning to stop whatever he was doing or trying to do.

"I'm always witty." She said, clenching her hands under the table. Cora turned to gaze at him seriously; so he knew that she knew what he was doing. "Haven't you noticed?"

Robert lightly smiled and turned his head, joining the conversation with the others. Cora studied him once more. Was he frustrated, angry, happy or upset? She didn't know. But this wasn't the man she had known for years.

Cora was confused herself. Robert always seemed to push her away when she tried to be close. But when she tried to give him that distance, he just tried to pull her back.

 _What is he doing?_

Simon watched them in amazement. He was hoping that maybe, somehow, in some parallel universe, Cora would sit next to him, but that didn't happen. Simon couldn't deny that he was mildly disappointed, which was, of course, completely ridiculous. If he sat with Cora and some other men he could have a nice peaceful meal, whereas Rosamund was far more likely to chatter him to death. Besides, did he really need to spend another conversation that involved her giving him that odd look like she knew every one of his secrets?

"How did you get your ticket for the Titanic, Mr. Bricker?" Cora's thoughts broke through Rosamund's velvet voice.

"Just a lucky hand." Simon turned his head to Cora. "A _very_ lucky hand."

"All life is a game of luck." Molly joined.

"A real man makes his own luck." Robert muttered. "I want to ask you something, _Mr_. Bricker?" Robert's voice was low and shallow, his gaze cold and Cora's heart skipped a beat in fear of what he would say.

"Yes?" Simon asked, adding a half smile.

"I almost didn't recognise you today. Where did you get that suit?" Robert felt both eyebrows shoot halfway up his forehead, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Well, actually, I've borrowed it." Simon exchanged looks with Molly before turning his head to Robert again.

"That explains everything." Robert smirked and leaned against his chair again, relaxed. Cora flashed him a warning look, she was already fidgeting on her chair from nervousness. She knew that Robert could be very unfeeling and in fact rude, and she didn't want Simon to feel bad. She would start to feel guilty for inviting him to be stuck with this class.

There was a beat of silence as everyone absorbed this odd tidbit of information.

"Anyway... where exactly do you live, Mr. Bricker?" Rosamund asked loudly while the salad was being served.

"Well, right now my address is the R.M.S. Titanic. After that I'm on God's good humour." Simon smiled, struggling to find the fork for the salad. He reached for the fish fork when he caught Cora giving him a signal to look at her. She slowly picked up a salad fork, prompting him with her eyes. He smiled at her and immediately exchanged forks.

"Mr. Bricker?" Another voice showed up and called for his attention. "Tell us about the accommodations in the steerage. Any rats?" This time it was Cal's question that made both Cora and Simon uncomfortable. For the first time Cora thought that she had actually made a mistake by calling Simon here to dine with them.

"Cal!" Molly said to him, looking flabbergasted.

"It's fine." Simon smiled at her and turned to the man who asked the question. "In fact, they are wonderful. They are like first class on any ship that is not the Titanic." He explained. "Besides, I don't need anything else. I have exactly what I need."

"Really?" Robert paused. "Then why did we have to lend you clothes?" He murmured, tapering off into a shaky silence.

Cora just slightly closed her eyes. There was nothing she could do to fix what he had just said.

Simon felt himself growing weaker. He couldn't fight them forever. He saw and felt that he wasn't welcome at all. The only two with actual sympathy for him were Molly and Cora. The others were mostly likely awful.

Simon saw that Molly wanted to give a lecture to Cal too, but he stopped her.

"It's fine." Simon whispered, not sure if the words were exactly for Molly or for himself.

Dessert was finally served, though the awkward atmosphere could still be felt around the table. A waiter arrived with cigars in a humidor on a wheeled cart. The men, excluding Simon started clipping ends and lighting.

"Well, join me for a brandy, gentleman?" Cal said raising from his seat, and the others followed. "Joining us, Bricker? You don't want to stay out here with the women, do you?" Cal continued.

"No, thanks." Simon said casually. "I'm heading back."

"Cal, I thought you said _gentlemen_?" Robert said aloud, and he and Cal shared a chuckle.

"But it's probably for the best that you say here, Simon." Robert lightly touched Cora's shoulder before leaving her side. "It'll be all business and politics, that sort of thing..." He paused and stood next to Cal, taking in a sharp inhale. "... wouldn't interest you." With that they vanished from the room.

As soon as Cora saw Robert disappearing behind the glass doors, she turned her head to face Simon, who was still sitting across from her.

"Mr. Bricker, must you go?" Her eyes followed him as he rose from the table.

"Actually, I'm going out on the deck to light up a cigarette." Simon said easily, pulling his coat on.

"Then would you mind some company?" She asked, and smiled when she saw him shaking his head from side to side as a response.

* * *

They stood in the corner of the first class dining room. Charles could feel that she was still mad at him for telling Robert about his theory. He studied her body language since she didn't say a word. Her jaw was clenched and her gaze was firmly fixed forward. Elsie looked around nervously, her blue eyes wandering at the luxurious space in front of her. She was fidgeting with her nails and her nervousness was the reason.

His eyes were fixed at her, focusing hard on her hands and face. The light coming off of the crystal chandeliers perfectly illuminated her in every way. To him, she really looked saintly.

Charles could sense her nervousness. But even though she was radiant, Elsie was always radiant, it was her energy, this time, that sent waves of anxiety to cruise through him. Perhaps because he thought he was the reason for her discomfort.

He faked a cough, just to make sure his voice didn't betray him. "I see..." He paused, seeing that he caught her attention. Elsie's gaze softened and her hands stopped squeezing. "You're still mad at me, aren't you?"

"No..." Elsie muttered, her lips slightly parted and her voice steady. "You did what you thought was best. I won't judge." Elsie said calmly, feeling his eyes on her skin. She was pretty sure she was red like a tomato. That reminded her of something, the now invisible list inside her head...

 _Weaknesses_ : He's making me blush way too much.

Elsie heard him letting out a sigh of relief. How could she possibly stay mad at him? She still didn't approve of his actions, but she knew how connected he was with Robert, and knew he had felt the need to tell him. Even if it wasn't true.

Charles looked at the wall clock. It said seven-fifty five. Finally, they had a reason to scatter.

"It's almost eight. Jack said..." Unable to finish his sentence, Elsie answered his question.

"Let's go." She instantly said, carefully making her way out of the dining room.

"Agreed without arguing." Charles whispered, watching her sneaking away. "Well, we're definitely making a progress." He sheepishly smiled at himself and his thoughts.

Elsie never liked these kind of parties. In fact, she had never liked any kind of first class dinner parties. It just wasn't for her.

She had a feeling that when she walked into the dining room at the beginning of the evening, she could see everything slow down; with every head turning towards her. Maybe that was just the product of her own imagination, but she just really wished to disappear, like that of ghosts.

This kind of job wasn't for her. It was different from the one at Downton. Charles was more used to dinner parties than she was. Even though she would never admit it, Elsie was glad Charles decided to step out of his comfort zone and sneak out.

She could already feel the blood blooming on her cheeks, and like a rose left its soft shades of pink there. Her hands began to sweat and she knew that her anxiety was softly coming.

She really wasn't looking forward to Jack's surprise, but at least it was better than to stand in on that useless dinner.

They silently walked down the corridor and stopped when they saw a familiar figure leaning against the wall.

"Oh thank heavens, you finally came!" Jack had his arms crossed over his chest and one foot leaning against the cold wall. "What have you been up to since this afternoon?"

"We were wandering the ship back to forth, nothing much more." Charles replied.

The actual fact was, was that they had never had so much free time in their lives. Their days had been spent working from dawn to dusk, going around Downton to tend to whatever things needed doing that couldn't be managed by Elsie, and then sleeping for whatever few hours remained after that.

"What else is there to do?" He looked at Jack, and then intuiting what he was about to say, beat him to the punch. "Wait, don't say it, let me guess - _I'm on the grandest ship in the entire world, how can I possibly say there's nothing to do_ \- was that close?"

Jack gave him a withering look. "Oh ha ha." He said.

The twinkle in his eyes, though, told Charles that he wasn't in the slightest put-off by his teasing.

"An' actually, I was gonna say that... Since the ship've prob'ly spent all their money makin' sure rich folk have ways to keep amused, it'll be up to us to find ways to entertainin' our own selves. Which," he added with a sly grin, "shouldn't be too hard bein' that we're on the grandest ship in the world."

Charles laughed in spite of himself. "Well, I knew you'd work that in somewhere."

"Of course." Jack replied. "I wouldn't want to disappoint you two."

" _Alright_..." Elsie added with a half smile, slowly peaking behind Jack. "Where are we going?"

It was then that music reached her ears, and she froze on the spot. "You wouldn't!"

"I definitely would!" Jack said affirmatively, tilting his head back. "As I said... I'm gonna entertain you."

"You must be joking with us..." Elsie and Charles followed Jack, who continued on down the hall. He stopped on another marble staircase that lead deeper into the ship. As they walked down the stairs the music became louder and louder. People's laughter and conversations could be heard, as well as their cursing.

"There's no way that Charles and I will..." Elsie stopped at the middle of the stairs and glanced around the room. There were so many people. If somebody asked her to count she would probably give up. White cigarette smoke was floating around the room and the noise of glass cracking could be heard all around.

"... t-that we will d-dance." Elsie stammered, tangled in her own words. The atmosphere down here was so confusing to her, but it seemed to be filled with good vibes. The music made her body dance even though she didn't want to show her softer side.

"Come here." Jack led them into the big room filled with people from mostly third class.

"Now, we're having a real party!" Jack said loudly and jumped into the group of people, leaving the two at the bottom of the stairs.

Without thinking rationally, Charles took her wrist and pulled her into the middle, pushing people out of their way. He took her in his arms. She was trembling as he took her right hand in his left. His other hand slid to the small of her back. It was the most electrifying moment so far in her life.

"I-I don't know the steps." Elsie whispered, trying to get away, but his arms were strongly enfolded around her body, his face millimetres away from hers.

"Just move with me, don't think." He whispered back. The third class music started playing and they started spinning as well. It was a little awkward at first, and then she was able to get into it. Elsie grinned at Charles as she started to get the rhythm of the steps. He smiled back at her.

"Wait, stop!" Elsie raised her tone so he could hear her. Charles immediately stopped at her request, afraid of something being wrong. But she slid off her shoes and threw them carelessly to the side. Then, she grabbed Charles' hand in hers and they began twirling again, dancing faster as the music sped up.

Lost in time, they forgot about who they were supposed to be. No classes or manners mattered here.

Just them, _lost in time._

* * *

Simon led her to the promenade deck where the wind was blowing coolly against Cora's face. Nonetheless it was cold, but all the same a rather beautiful night. The moon followed them, almost as though it was curious, and its glow lit up the restless sea under the Titanic.

There weren't many people outside, just a few children running here and there. They walked down the deck next to each other. It was freezing out on the Atlantic. Cora exhaled and white smoke exited her shivering mouth. She crossed her arms over her chest in the hopes to warm herself a little bit.

The silence was broken by Simon's steady voice. "I think you should go back inside. It's very cold." He lit up a cigarette and the light of the match illuminated Cora's face perfectly.

"Besides I don't want your husband to get worried when he sees that you're not inside."

"I don't think he will notice." Cora lightly sighed, "but... I would rather talk to you."

He smiled, it appeared that her comment had flattered him. It felt as though that was exactly what he had wanted to hear, and it was true. Cora enjoyed his company, but she felt somehow strange. There were still too many secrets between them. She felt like he knew her much better than she knew him.

"Anyway..." Cora continued. "Have you drawn anything new recently?"

"Not much...just a few sketches." Simon said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

In the hours Simon had been at the sea, so far, the only solid conclusion he had drawn about the Titanic was that she was all together bigger than any ship had any reasonable right to be. Perhaps her size was necessary to please the first class swells - no doubt each of them had a cabin bigger than normal people's homes.

"I see." Cora said and looked away into the darkness. The only light that blinked was from the billion of starts above them.

"You're confusing Cora..." Simon silently said, inhaling more cigarette smoke.

Cora looked up. "Why?" she asked.

 _Did he not like me because of my opinions? Did I hit some unknown nerve and insulted him?_

She frowned at him when he seemed to fall deep in thought and didn't appear as though he was going to answer straight away.

 _Besides, why do I care so much?_

"Most people are easy to read, but you...you're difficult to read, very difficult." He trailed off as if he had been talking to himself. There was definitely more to what he had said than to what Cora was catching on.

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" She chuckled, but she was actually glad he said that. Cora hated to be predictable.

"Sometimes it's frustrating." Simon continued.

"Just because someone won't tell you what they're thinking?" Cora looked slightly irritated.

Simon stared at her and she stared back. He finally softened his look.

"I'm sorry. That was rude."

Cora nodded in forgiveness and fiddled with her scarf again. They were farther down the ship now; currently they were passing the second class dining hall.

She breathed a sigh. "I was thinking about how you always ask questions about me, but I never get any answers from you."

His jaw set and he looked annoyed again. Why is he so defensive? But before either of them could say anything else, Cora felt a pair of little hands wrapping around her legs. She inhaled in fear until she saw who it was.

"I just wanted to say hi." A velvet, childish voice broke the silence.

"Richard!" Cora exclaimed in happiness, bowing her head down. "I hope you're not lost again." They both chuckled and she knelt down to face him. He laughed more and she found that his laughter was contagious. Cora looked into the boy's eyes and smiled wildly.

"I'm not." Richard giggled. " I just came here with my friends. The music down below was too loud for us."

"What music?" Cora's eyebrows drew together, waiting for his answer.

"There are people dancing down there." Richard answered hurriedly and waved her goodbye. He disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving Cora extremely curious.

"Well..." She chuckled and stood up. She had forgotten how little kids could be so mysterious, and she loved it. Even though she didn't get an exact answer to her question, she enjoyed the little chat she had with him.

"How about we get our minds off of things?" Simon grinned and observed her face. "How do you feel about going to a party?

When he said party, images of proper people in long gorgeous gowns, walking around having boring conversations filled Cora's head and she grimaced. Simon laughed quietly before saying.

"No, Cora, I wouldn't dare bring you to another ghastly dinner. No, third class is having a party and I thought we could attend."

Cora raised her eyebrows. "Third class?"

He nodded and for a moment she contemplated his offer. Cora was curious to see how it would all turn out. She had never been to a party without all of the fancy manners, tight attitudes, rich clothes and stretched smiles...without Robert.

But pretty soon she managed to get him out of her mind; she would leave this guiltiness behind. Cora finally looked up and nodded with a slight smile on her face. In return Simon smiled widely.

Simon wordlessly took her hand in his and started to lead her down some nearby stairs. The touch of his cold hand sent shivers down her spine. But they were shivers of excitement. For a moment she just observed him and his graceful movements. He was somehow too perfect for his own good. She wondered if he really was that perfect, that he had fallen from heaven and fell to where she had been waiting. Oh yes, she didn't believe in faith, then it must be something else. There was no other explanation for it in her mind.

Cora noticed that after a few flights of stairs, she heard music. It was fast and happy and there were sounds of dancing and singing. She smiled to herself as it got louder. Simon stopped at one floor and they walked faster and faster down the hallway, laughing at each other and their immaturity.

They burst through a set of doors and into a large room. There was a small band playing and people dancing on the dance floor. There were tables everywhere with people talking and drinking big glasses of beer. There was a table nearby where different men were betting on arm wrestling matches.

"Do you like it?" Simon asked after seeing how her sapphire eyes wandered around the smoky room. "I know it's not the kind of luxury you're used to, but still..."

"It's perfect..." She answered, splitting a wide smile onto her face.

* * *

Big first class doors opened and two men entered. Like in a dream the beautiful woodwork and satin upholstery emerged from the rusted ruin. Robert was overwhelmed by the opulence of the room.

"Finally a proper opportunity to leave without anyone noticing." Robert said gently, his eyes still wandering in awe around the room.

"I agree." Cal said, walking near the closet. "As long as the brandy and the cigars hold out, they won't notice that we're gone." They both shared a laugh.

"True." Robert added. He watched Cal go to a safe and started working on the combination. "You take this thing everywhere?"

"Mostly, yes." He shrugged, and then the click sounded throughout the whole room. Cal unlocked it. Glancing up, he met Robert's worried eyes. Robert was nervous, he was fidgeting on the spot.

"Don't worry, you'll like it." Cal added in a half smile, taking out two black boxes.

"You'll get what you've paid for." He came nearer to Robert and put the boxes carefully on the marble table. "They're both the same value so I'll give you the privilege to choose." Cal calmly said, slowly opening the boxes.

Robert gazed at it, completely astonished. The wealth on the table was beyond normal people's comprehension. "They're truly stunning."

"They really are." Cal said amused, fascination had caught him too. He observed Robert's face carefully. "So which one is yours?"

After a few seconds, and careful observation of the beauties that lay before him, Robert made a decision. "The Hope." His fingertips brushed the rare exquisiteness.

"I've never seen anything more beautiful." Robert's breath was taken away, but soon he rose his head up to correct himself. "Besides my wife, of course."

Cal laughed, shaking his head. "Nice choice, I must admit. So, I'll go with The Heart." Cal sighed. "Maybe one day Rose and I will have the same lovely marriage like you two have."

"You never know." Robert smirked, closing the box and exiting the room.

* * *

Her bare legs moved around the dance floor in a special rhythm. Feeling his hands on her body made her shiver. The music was contagious and her body was twirling and dancing to the beat. Elsie felt like a child. She had never experienced something like this. She was even questioning herself now - had she even lived life to the fullest until this moment?

She closed her eyes and grabbed Charles by his wrists. They carelessly twirled around and smiled at strangers around them. This place really was a heaven on earth; until Elsie bumped into one guy who was carrying a beer. In blink of an eye it was all around the floor and her dress. Slowly losing control over her body and her bare feet touching the mixture beneath, she knew that she was going to end up on the floor. Charles' hand was still held by Elsie so he quickly pulled her back. She spontaneously grabbed his shoulders and leaned onto him.

"Careful." Charles said sarcastically and blinked in complete surprise. She rose her head up and smiled shyly. She was looking right into his eyes, their bodies touching. Elsie felt electricity going through her. Excitement was at its maximum.

Charles smiled that crooked smile that she loved. "You look nice tonight." He complimented and she stood there in awe. He rarely ever complimented her appearance and she slightly blushed.

 _He complimented me? Wow, the world really is coming to an end._ Elsie grinned in amusement.

The heavenly moment was interrupted by Jack's curiosity. "I see you two are enjoying yourselves." He patted Charles' shoulder, giving him a grin. "Wanna drink something?" Jack asked.

"We've already had enough." Elsie smiled and showed him the wet dress. "I think this is enough for us today."

"But the party has just started." Jack laughed, trying to get them to stay.

"You forget that we have to work tomorrow morning." Charles added, slowly trying to get out of the crowd.

"Such a party breaker." Jack made a face. "Not fun."

"Well, be happy we even came." Elsie turned her head, trying to find the exit.

"This was really ex..." She stopped, her jaw dropped. Firstly, she thought that it was all the music and people that was making her hallucinate. The scene in front of her eyes was unbelievable. Seeing Cora and Simon entering the room made her anxious. Not because she and Charles were there, but because Robert wouldn't be glad at all. And also seeing Lady Grantham in third class was strange. Elsie knew that Cora and Robert hadn't been on very good terms these past few days, and now it was clear that Bricker was probably the reason.

"Look." Elsie hit Charles with her elbow, without looking away from Cora and Simon on the top of the stairs. Charles studied Elsie's face for a moment until he realised that she was showing him something. He lifted his head up, following her gaze.

"Lord and Lady Grantham seriously have to talk things out." Charles commented, completely shocked. "If it continues like this..." He paused, not knowing what words to use.

"Dear Lord..." Elsie thought about his words, and all the ones that were left unsaid, and she felt cold shivers whisper all throughout her body.

* * *

Thank you for continuing to read; for your alerts, for adding this story to your favorites and thanks so much for your comments. I appreciate it all, a lot.

 **Review for a preview!**


	10. Silentium est Aureum

**A/N:** _Thank you everyone for being so very generous with and in your reviews on the last chapter. This is the longest chapter I've ever written. This one was fun to write. I hope you like it too. The characters once again took over the story and ran with it in a direction I didn't anticipate. Oh and the title means ' **Silence is Golden** ' in Latin._

 _Thank you_ **Courtland** _for being such a wonderful beta!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER X**

 ** _Silentium est Aureum_**

 _"Their love was strong,_

 _But timing was wrong,_

 _And love decided_

 _They didn't belong."_

 _ **12, April 1912:**_

After Cal and Robert's little talk, Robert agreed to join Patrick in the first class General Room for a game of cards. There was nothing to bet but bragging rights and a few scattered coins, but that didn't seem to stop anyone. In fact, within a few hours, the small game between Patrick, Robert, James and Cal had evolved into something of an impromptu tournament.

Robert, for his part, had folded ages ago. Usually, he was good at poker, being blessed with an ability to compose his features into a mask of near permanent impassiveness, but tonight he found it hard to concentrate and rather than getting himself good and properly trounced, Robert opted to back out. After all, he had nearly two more days left to spend with these fellows; there would be plenty of time for him to beat them.

After a while he decided that he'd had enough of playing; the cards weren't serving him today at all. He left the smoky room, tasting the last bits of whiskey on his lips. The General Room could easily be called the social hub of first class, and it seemed that nearly all of the rich had settled there to pass the rest of the evening by.

Peace reigned in the hallways of the Titanic. No sound could be heard. All doors were closed and it was as tranquil as some hidden, closed library. Hallways were empty and people were nowhere to be seen. It felt like time had stopped.

Until the crack of the heavy, gold painted elevator doors awoke, disturbing the calm. The doors opened and Robert stepped out. He looked around the lit hallway, putting the black, leather box into his pocket.

He took a few steady steps forward, ready to go back to his room. He was trying to find the key to his room inside his pockets. It was an impossible mission since he had drunk a little too much that night.

His intentions were stopped by a sweet, fast pitter-patter. It almost sounded like running, the heels made a strangely familiar sound. It sounds like... _Cora_.

The sound got louder and resounded around the hallways, faster and faster, never faltering. It sounded as though it was just around the corner now. But as it grew louder and faster, he could tell the difference between Cora's classy steps and this rough, hurried, almost fearful, sound.

 _No, not my wife...but still attractive and mysterious to the ears._

Hurried steps suddenly stopped and Robert paused in wonder. He took a moment to scan the rest of the hallway - until a flash of red hair caught his eye. Robert realised that he was half hoping to spot Rosamund, but when a round face peeked out, he realised who the young beauty was.

"Mr. Crawley." The voice was velvet as she spoke, and she stepped out, continuing to walk forward.

" _Rose_ _?"_ Completely confused, Robert said. "Why are you hiding?"

"I'm not exactly hiding..." Rose added, stopping in front of Robert. Her expression looked relieved. "Well, maybe a little. The truth is I don't want to stay through dinner, so..."

" - you decided to disappear, and I understand completely." He finished instead of her, still searching for the key to his room in his pockets.

"Please," she opened her eyes wide, looking pleadingly at him, "if anyone asks, say you didn't run into me."

"I will, don't worry." Robert said easily, his eyes were still pooled with confusion, which he tried to hide with each new blink.

"Need anything while I'm still here?" He asked, seeing how the young girl fidgeted on the spot. She was slightly opening and then closing her lips again and again, like a flower refusing to bloom.

"Can you please escort me if it's not too much to ask." She pleaded finally; her eyebrows raised just a little. "I heard what happened to your wife when she went in third class."

He thought about it for a second before giving her his final decision, still processing her words. "Of course, I will." Giving up from finding his key, Robert abandoned his first class room door and headed after her. They walked down the quiet hallway until Robert spoke up again.

"Where are you actually going?" He asked, following her lead.

Rose inhaled deeply, making her way to the second class staircase.

"Third class is having a party. I said to a few of my friends that I would go." She didn't have to look at Robert to know that he frowned at the mention of Third Class.

Rose felt her mood lift almost the moment she stepped out of first class. Nothing mattered here and she loved the freedom. Robert, following closely behind her, had kept wisely silent for a few minutes. He didn't want to say something that could offend her, or her friends. Usually, he wasn't the type of person that cared all that much about what he would say and to whom, but with Rose it was slightly different.

Rose didn't mind the lack of conversation, but she wished he would stop giving her those little darting looks as though he was afraid that one false move would trigger her temper again.

"Mr. Crawley," Rose said finally when she caught him at it for the hundredth time, "will you stop that?" She asked, giving him a slight smile.

Robert looked over his shoulder like he was hunting for a clue as to what she was talking about, "Stop what?"

"Looking at me like I'm a bomb about to go off," Rose replied. She crossed her arms and gazed at him sternly, "I'm a girl, not a stick of dynamite."

"Could have fooled me," Robert said, chuckling dryly.

Rose glared at him for a moment, then a smile crept across her face.

"I'm only mostly annoyed when I'm with Cal. I lose my temper when I'm with him...or mother. But I'm sorry if I made you think that I'm like that most of the time." She chuckled, shaking her head from side to side. Her red curls flowing in the air like embers from a fire: "I'm really not like that."

"I know." Robert laughed, "but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Oh stop it." She giggled, investigating the hallway this time. Robert laughed and shook his head a few times, walking after her.

"You know where we're going, right?" He commented with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Seeing her wandering across the enormous hallway didn't pour a lot of hope that she knew where she was going. She peeked through some doors, but it seemed none of them led to third class.

"Not quite, but I'll pretend that I know the way." She flashed him a cheesy smile. Rose started to climb half way up a staircase that, she presumed, were the third class rooms.

A small noise, like a clearing of the throat, caught Rose's attention. Robert was still standing at the bottom of the staircase looking up at her, as though he wasn't sure if it was the right way.

Rose smirked, amused, "You can come up here, you know?"

Robert returned the smirk and shook his head, walking up the stairs.

"I know I can't talk you out of it, but at least be careful there." As these words quietly slipped from his mouth for a second he thought he was talking to Sybil. This young, lively girl had so much of Sybil in herself.

"I will, I promise." She gave a soft smile and looped her arm through his as they made their way through - what they hoped was - the third class hallway.

Both of them could see the curious looks bequeathed upon them from the people who passed them. These people weren't used to such fancy clothes and jewellery. It was clear that they didn't belong here, but none of them seemed to care enough to stop and turn around.

"You're such nice company." Rose commented aloud.

Surprised by this tidbit of knowledge, Robert forgot his discomfort entirely and rotated to face the young lady beside him, "really?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You seem rather surprised by this, huh?" She gave a giggle, looking once again at his precious expression.

"Well, I'm not on a very good terms with women these past few day, so I don't know what to expect anymore." Robert laughed at his own words.

"You mean with Cora, yes, well, I noticed." Rose looked up at his eyes, he seemed relaxed, untroubled by her words.

"Well, in my defence, I'm trying to fix the situation." Robert raised his hand defensively, giving a soft laugh.

They fell silent again, but this time there was none of the previous tension. They slowly walked forward, following the signs around them, trying to seek out the mysterious room.

Later, Robert would wonder what on earth had possessed him to do such a thing and come in _third class_ , but at that moment the thought never crossed his mind. He simply felt that someone ought to help her and it may as well be him.

* * *

They opened the heavy third class door, and in an instant merry voices filled the air, laughing and chattering amongst themselves in more languages than Robert could even begin to name. Children chased each other, shrieking with glee, in and out of the rows of teak benches, while their mothers exchanged harried looks and rolled eyes. Families, friends and new acquaintances alike sat together laughing and swapping stories while the band played fast, cheerful music. It was a pleasant melody, streaming through the welcoming atmosphere and Robert thought it felt a little bit like home. It was a strange feeling, though, because he was never the kind of guy to go to informal parties, but nonetheless he liked all he had seen so far.

"I see." Rose said, grinning mischievously at him. "You like it."

"I won't deny, I do." Robert answered, totally stunned.

Rose turned her head, looking directly at him, "Do you want to stay and have fun with us?" She asked, "No one will know, I promise." She giggled.

"Well," he paused, "I would rather..." Robert's sentence was interrupted by another male voice. It was childish, young, but it was silky. Somehow it felt familiar, but Robert couldn't remember.

"Rose!" Jack approached them, running up the stairs and stopping in the middle. "You've managed to come." The joy on the boy's face was priceless; his eyes shone brightly when he saw the young lady. The boy's dark hair fell into his face, his cheeks incredibly red; by the way he was dressed it wasn't hard to guess that he belonged to the third class.

"I somehow did." Rose added, her cheeks blushing, "but I have to thank Mr. Crawley." She turned to him, smiling brightly. Her shining smile and messy fiery curls, yet again clawed at him, reminding him of his beloved Sybil. Those dark pair of green eyes had always glimmered with such happiness each time she had seen him.

"Please," Robert rolled his eyes. It was the littlest thing he could do in helping her. "It was my pleasure. Besides, at night third class is never safe."

" _Robert_ _?_ " Jack muttered, his eyes revealing curiosity. "Robert Crawley, right?" The boy continued.

"That's me." Robert confirmed a little confused by such a sudden question. He slightly narrowed his eyebrows at the stranger in from of him.

Jack suspiciously examined him for a minute before speaking again. "Is your wife Cora?"

"As far as I know, I think she is." He added a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. It bothered him a little that he named her only _Cora_ , it somehow seemed too casual for a stranger to name his wife, but he could see that the boy was fearless. There was something mischievous about him. He always talked to everyone in the same tone and manner; he would talk the same no matter who stood in from of him; first class or third class - it didn't matter to him.

"Anyways, has something happened?" Robert continued.

"It depends on how you look at it." Jack grinned, taking a sip of his, now warm, tasteless beer. "I think I saw her here a few minutes ago. She was in someone's company... I think his name was... well, something beginning with _S_ , as far as I can remember."

It didn't take long until Rose and Robert both realised who Jack was talking about.

" _Simon_." They said in unison, their eyes colliding. Shock could be read from their facial expressions, perhaps even anger. _Who could know?_

"But that's nonsense." Robert disguised his face coolly, though his fists clenched up.

"She stayed at the dinner, and why on earth would she come here with him?" Robert almost shouted, thank the heavens the music was louder. From his tone it was easy to conclude that he wasn't at ease with it.

"Aye, there she is." Jack squeaked. "Look!" His index finger travelled up in the air, pointing somewhere in crowd. And really, there they were. As soon as Jack raised his finger Robert immediately spotted her. Cora's clothes and unruly caramel curls were easy to pick out of a crowd. Robert found his eye getting pulled to the corner more often than anywhere else, a fact that did nothing but annoy him. He told himself that it wasn't just because Cora was over there, but because she was accompanied by Simon. It made him anxious. The group in the corner was the largest and indeed the most vocal out of all others in the room.

"You must be joking." He sighed, half in disappointment, half in misery.

* * *

After a few more hours of conversing with the different passengers and dancing to some more music, Charles turned his head and whispered to Elsie.

"I think we should go before something more happens." He sighed, "I'm really not in the mood for more drama, besides I wouldn't want them to find out that we're here."

Without any hesitation Elsie agreed, nodding her head. She grabbed her coat and headed to the nearest exit. It was indeed late and she felt her eyelids growing slightly heavier with each passing minute.

The staircase, it turned out, was not particularly wide. There was enough room for two people to climb side by side, but just barely. This became immediately apparent when Charles stepped next to her and the pair suddenly found themselves in very close quarters, close enough that their shoulders were pressed together, close enough that if they turned to look at the other simultaneously; they would find there was hardly a foot of space between the tips of their noses. Of course, the first thing Elsie did when she realised this was turn to look at him, and of course Charles did the same so that they discovered very quickly how little room they had.

It shouldn't have mattered in the slightest, but it did. There was a ridiculous stretch of dead silence in which they both stared wide-eyed at one another.

 _His eyes have flecks of grey in them_ , Elsie thought, completely out of nowhere and the fact that she had noticed this caused a wave of heat to rush from her neck to the top of her head. The knowledge that she had likely just turned magenta effectively broke Elsie out of her stupor. She dropped her gaze to her feet and with hurried steps scooted as far away from Charles as she could, which in all truth was not very far after all.

As she slowly managed to climb up the tiny stairs, she could hear people shouting behind them to stop blocking the way out. She didn't care for them, but it meant that Charles had still stayed behind and was probably wondering what had happened.

She walked down the hallway and later she heard his steps behind her, but she didn't bother to turn around. After a while Charles surpassed her and now they walked next to each other again. Neither of them seemed to have recovered the use of their vocal chords, so for another torturous minute they said nothing.

Finally, Elsie made a desperate stab at speech, blurting: "It was nice to forget about the world for a little while, wasn't it?" And then immediately wanted to slap herself for saying something so asinine.

Fortunately, Charles didn't seem to care that the conversation was idiotic, only that there was conversation at all. He nodded, making a pointed effort to avoid looking at her. Elsie could have sworn that he was suppressing a smile and she had to restrain herself from boxing his ears.

"Yes, if we get another chance for something like this, I'll gladly take it again." He commented, still avoiding her gaze.

"And the voyage is quite pleasant." Elsie commented, still perched rather rigidly. It was another beautiful day at sea. It barely felt like they were on the water right now, like they were soaring through the cloudless sky, free, and not upon waves that crashed into metal sides.

"If the sea was rougher do you think it would make a difference?" She continued.

"Oh, sure it would," Charles replied matter-of-factly. "The swells are small now, but we'd feel it if they got much bigger."

Elsie glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "You say that like you know for sure."

Charles shrugged. "That's because I do know, don't I?" He said easily, "When I was a boy, I used to go fishing with my father."

Surprised by this information, Elsie forgot her discomfort and looked at him fully.

"Really? I didn't know that."

"Of course not - I never told you." Charles said with a crooked smile, "Now, it's different maybe, being on a big ship like this; I expect you don't feel the waves so much. Still and all, I don't suppose we'd much enjoy having to sail through a bad storm, fancy big ship or not."

"Ah no, I'd think not." Elsie agreed, shuddering at the thought of being tossed around at the mercy of the sea. She had heard tales of ships capsizing under the strain of a ferocious gale, their hulls dashed to pieces by the crash of waves. But then, the Titanic was said to be unsinkable, so she likely didn't have to worry, even if there was a storm.

Standing in front of their room door, out loud Elsie said, "Well at least you managed not to die fishing."

Charles huffed a little laugh and replied. "Yes, well I'm grateful for that too." He opened the door for her and followed her closely behind.

"Otherwise I'd have never met you." He said easily an she passed by. He could tell that her cheeks had gone dangerously red at the tone he'd used, and he adored it. Adored her.

As soon as Elsie returned to her cabin she switched her coat for another one - a warmer one - and chose a different hat. She didn't speak, she didn't dare to say anything. She knew her face was probably red as a tomato by now, but she couldn't help it.

"Going somewhere?" Charles asked amazed, his eyes examining her actions carefully. He stood in the middle of the room. He wanted to change and go to sleep, but it seemed that Elsie had different plans for the night.

"Follow me." She said softly and passed him again, her contagious perfume hitting his nostrils as she did. She turned once again just to look at him and gave him a small smirk before vanishing completely. And even if he wanted to protest she wouldn't hear him; so what was the point in that?

He followed - of course he did.

 _He always would._

* * *

The music continued to get louder and louder with each passing minute; it swirled around everything it could find in perfect concord. They all talked, had fun, joked and gossiped about first class. She bowed her head down, looking at her drink. It was tasteless, but she pretended to enjoy it. Simon constantly glanced at her and he noticed that she was getting progressively quieter as the evening wore on. Now she had an odd pinched expression on her face, one that she was almost managing to hide but not quite.

"Hey there," Simon said, calling for her attention. "Are you alright?"

Cora rose her head, gripping the drink in her hands. "Absolutely." She answered his question, but not truthfully. Of course, she was feeling guilty. The guilt was eating her from the inside. She'd had an amazing time down here, but her inner voice was telling her that it was a mistake. She should have told someone, she should have let someone know where she was.

"Just need some space." She smiled lightly, "I'll be back in a minute."

Cora managed to get through the crowd and journeyed to the other side of the room where there weren't so many people, the music was quieter too like a small child's whisper, the voices muted. She wasn't sure if she should go up on deck or down below to the cabins, or even back to her room.

Robert walked steady through the crowd, Cora wasn't hard to find. He followed her silently and he practiced his breathing on his way to her. He really didn't want to make a scene in front of everyone, he was trying to get his jealousy - or madness - under control.

It was no easy feat navigating the room. Nearly half the population of third class was up on their feet dancing to the lively tunes coming from impromptu band of musicians and avoiding collision with the with the joyful swirl of bodies was challenging to say at least. He dodged several couples whirling through the improvised dance steps, a line of children cheasing each other pell-mell through the crowd, a line of mothers trying to catch their pell-mell children, and a pick of men cheering for their friends at what appeard to be an arm wrestling tournament before finally coming out the other side of the room feeling as though he had just gone through a windmill.

The moment he stepped out of that noisy crowd, and escaped the dance floor, Robert spotted her standing in the corner near some little, round window. As he approached, Robert could see how hard she was grasping the railing, her head bent and her eyes closed.

"Cora?" Robert said, once he was within hearing distance.

Apparently, she had not heard him coming because Cora gasped in surprise and jumped about a foot, cracking one wrist hard against the uppermost railing.

"For heaven's sake, where did you come from?" Cora exclaimed, shaking one hand with a hiss of pain. "Why did you sneak up on me like that?"

Robert grimaced. "Sorry, I figured you had heard me coming." He gestured to her newly bruised wrist. "Did you hit it very hard?" He took her gentle palm into his masculine hands, examining it carefully.

"It's fine." She replied with the tiniest wince. Finally, she seemed to register that it was Robert who had joined her and she frowned in thought - she was puzzled about how he had come to be here.

"How did you get here?" She was shocked to see him. He wasn't supposed to be here, he wasn't supposed to find _her_ here. "I thought you were playing cards with the other men?" She was completely stunned. He was so calm, and he looked right into her eyes with such gentle care that she forgot how to breathe and he caressed her palm lovingly.

Her voice had an odd quality to it, as though she was talking through clenched teeth. Taking a closer look, Robert could see that she didn't look entirely right either; her face was pale with a faint greenish tinge around the edges.

Ignoring her questions completely, Robert said: "Cora, what's wrong with you?"

Cora rubbed the bridge her nose and squinted up at him. "Well, that's a nice greeting to give your wife." She said dryly.

Refusing to let her sidetrack him, Robert raised one eyebrow and said. "You're the colour of your dress." He tugged gently on one of her white sleeves to illustrate the point. "You're seasick after all?"

For some reason the question seemed to bother her. Cora turned away from him, leaning heavily on the rails once more. "No, I'm not; it isn't that." She said in the same tight voice.

Robert shrugged. "Homesick then?"

Cora peered up at him sideways for a moment and then seemed to decide that he wasn't going to leave her condition alone. She sighed.

"Not that either."

Straightening Cora tucked a stray curl behind one ear and attempted a weak smile. "Nothing but a case of too much excitement and tasteless food mixed with cheap drinks, I expect."

She was a very good liar, Robert decided. _But why is she lying?_ Alright, perhaps the food did have something to do with why she was here, looking like she was about to be sick, but that wasn't all of it. Robert tried not to show his scepticism, but he could feel his brows knitting into a V in spite of his efforts. This marked the second time that day he'd become sure she was hiding something from him. The first had occurred early in the morning after their _love session_ _,_ but he told himself that it was because she was feeling tired. Robert wasn't sure what was giving her away - something in her eyes perhaps - but he felt positive that Cora was not being entirely truthful.

Still, Robert couldn't see the point of pushing the issue, especially when she looked to be about five seconds from vomiting on his shoes. He knew that she would tell him eventually and it was never good to pressure her if she didn't want to say something, she most likely needed more time.

"Then it must be that." Robert said, lying about the cause of course. The fact was she was still sick and Robert couldn't help but feel concerned.

"You're going to be alright? I'll take you to find the doctor if you want." He said, concern written all over his face.

"Lord no," Cora said with a little laugh. "I'll be fine. Just need some air and it will pass." A thought seemed to occur to her then, and she suddenly looked sly. A slow, crooked smile spread across her face and her eyelashes dipped down; casting small fanned shadows along her cheeks.

She asked. "Robert Crawley, did you come here to check on me?"

Robert made a face, for a moment considered denying it completely, and then finally settled on saying. "After all, you're my wife... so... I could be." Robert said, as much as he could, in an offhand voice. It couldn't be disputed that Robert felt responsible for Cora, but he wasn't about to come right out and admit it. Besides, she was the type to look out for herself and Robert didn't want to insult her pride by saying the wrong thing.

Apparently his response was the correct one because Cora looked happy with the statement and made no move to admonish him. "Well, thank you." She said and, for a fraction of a second, appeared almost shy again, coyly peeking at him. Then, as fast as he could blink, the look was gone, but Robert wasn't sure he had imagined it.

"I don't want to keep you from your game though, Robert. You can go if you want, I'm alright here by myself."

"Eh, I wasn't playing anymore anyway." Robert replied with a one-shouldered shrug, "and Patrick is going to win; he's the better bluffer. So, I suppose I'll just stay here." Robert said hastily. "If you have no objection, of course." He slowly teased her.

"You can stay." Cora said and this time the bashful look was unmistakable, though almost as fleeting as the first one had been. For some unknown reason Robert felt stupidly pleased by this reaction. She already seemed better - the green cast to her skin had receded leaving her looking just a few degrees paler than usual - but still she circled her midsection with one arm and said. "Go on and distract me until I feel like myself again."

Robert pondered the request. "I suppose I can manage that." He decided with a smirk. "What kind of distraction are you looking for?"

Cora mirrored his twist of a smile with one of her own and shifted so that her back was braced against the railings. "Tell me something about yourself Lord Grantham. Something I don't know."

"You don't actually know anything about me." He teased her, smirking, the action sent crooked shadows under his lips.

" _Oh yes?_ " Cora replied, with a lift of her brows. "Do you think that?"

Robert opened his mouth to confirm that yes, only to snap his jaw shut the next instant - it wasn't true and he knew it. Actually, he felt as though they had known each other for far, far longer than they actually had. They had been married for so long, but he felt that they had known each other for all of eternity and every day that came after that.

Cora nodded. "Exactly." She said, though he had not spoken.

Robert shook his head as though to dismiss the mysterious exchange.

"Well, say whatever you want, that's still an awful broad range of topics. Have you got any particular thing in mind?" Robert asked.

Cora checked through her opinions and finally said. "Tell me something about your wife?"

"She's the love of my life." Robert replied immediately; this was the thing that he felt most defined his wife.

This drew a surprised laugh from Cora. "Anything else about her?" She said with a smile that crinkled her eyes; they looked like small cobwebs.

"Well, yes." Robert said. "She's stubborn, but mischievous. I look out for her as much as I can, but she always thinks she can manage alone. If she heard what I said she would probably give me a good knock about the head for saying so." Robert shot Cora a conspiratorial half smile and added, "But that's only because she knows it's true."

Cora laughed again and Robert noticed that the colour was beginning return to her face. "I see you're feeling better." He had all but forgotten the initial reason he had gone looking for her.

"Oh yes, thank you." Cora grinned at him, then seemed to realise that they were supposed to be leaving. "Well, we should go." She hesitated. "Are you coming?"

"Oh no." Robert smiled, slowly walking towards her. "We're not leaving just yet." He took her wrist gently and started leading her onto the dance floor.

"What are you doing?" She chuckled slowly, but narrowed her eyebrows a little.

"We are not going to dance, are we?" She laughed and Robert pulled her on the dance floor. Her eyes widened, "No, Robert, no!" She yelled over the music.

"Why not?" Robert laughed and Cora looked down sheepishly.

"I can't dance. At least not like this." Cora yelped.

He laughed and pulled her with irrefutable force to the middle of the dance floor. No one stared, they looked just like them - alright, maybe a little more stylish and classy, but still. Robert threw his black suit jacket to a nearby table and put his arms around Cora.

"Don't worry." Robert said, "It's all in the leading."

He put one hand on the small of Cora's back and pulled her closer. Her chest and stomach pressed against his and Cora slightly blushed. He took her other hand and started to jump into the dance. She, of course, followed his lead.

"I really don't know the steps!" Cora said and he smiled, amused nonetheless.

"Darling, just move your feet and don't think." He said encouragingly. The music started and they were off. A little awkward at first, but then she started to get into it.

When the music flowed and filled the crowded room, her spirits raised. Hips began to swivel and she felt the rhythmic beat coursing through her veins. The scene was rowdy and rollicking. The steps were fast and she shone with sweat. The space opened around them and people watched them, clapping as the band played faster and faster. After a few turns to the upbeat music, Robert and Cora were twirling and dancing like there was no tomorrow. This was definitely more fun and easier than the slow dances they were used to. Cora laughed and relaxed into his lead. After the song ended and another began, they stepped off the dance floor.

They walked to a nearby table, flushed and sweaty, where Robert shook hands with a few men and was quickly offered two glasses of beer. He took them and was about to set them aside, but Cora stopped him.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" She asked.

Robert smirked. "I can't drink anymore tonight and I doubt you should."

Nonetheless, she grabbed the drink from his hand; extreme excitement took over her. Without thinking, she approached the glass to her lips and took a rather large gulp. She felt her throat burning, her eyes started to water in pain as it slid down her throat leaving a sizzling burn behind. But, it was quite odd...it, in a way, felt good. Very good. So much so that she found herself taking another sip and then another until reality grew hazy. By the time she was finished the glass was half empty.

Cora looked up and Robert was staring at her in awe, his eyes wide open, still not sure if he should comment or just leave it be.

"What?" Cora questioned, "You think a first class girl can't drink?" She laughed at his expression and grabbed some food for her famished stomach.

He looked at her, at her graceful movements. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen her like this. So free, so mischievous, so... _different_. She finally met his gaze again. They looked at each other lovingly, not noticing the strangers around them. Robert gazed deep into her sapphire eyes, unfathomable and as churning as the sea below them.

Slowly, Robert began to lean closer to her lips. Breathing in, her now very weary perfume, he was only centimetres away from her lips. He didn't know what made him do that, but he was longing to touch those luscious lips.

"Cora?"

Her closed eyes quickly opened and they broke apart before they could even come together. They had been so lost in time, in one another, until someone had come and interrupted them.

There was a hint of worry in someone's voice. "I see you're alright now." Both of them turned their heads, looking at the intruder.

"Simon?" Cora gasped, since Robert had come she had totally forgotten with who she was here with first.

"Yes, everything is alright. We were just heading back. I'd like to thank you, this was an amazing night." She glanced at Robert and then switched her gaze to Simon. The two of them didn't make any eye contact. Robert twisted his mouth and Simon looked at his feet. It wasn't a comfortable situation.

"It was my pleasure." Simon muttered, that was the only thing he could actually say.

"Let's go," Robert moved his hand onto Cora's shoulders and they slowly moved forward.

When he saw that Cora was a little ahead of him, he stopped and turned his head to Simon, his now dark eyes flashed furiously, his gaze tense.

"And don't you ever go near my wife again, or you'll regret." With that he followed Cora's steps and disappeared from the room.

* * *

Elsie intended to go up on deck, but she thought maybe she would try and get to the forward Well Deck, via the route Jack had told her about the day before. The problem was that most of the third class deck space was at the stern; where a person had to always see where they'd come from instead of where they were going.

Following the signs and hearing Charles' steady steps and huffs behind her, Elsie made her way up one level to E-Deck and then started up one long corridor Jack had described. Elsie wondered if it really ran from one end of the ship to the other. If it didn't and she ended up getting lost for three hours in the depths of the Titanic, Jack Dawson was going to have some explaining to do.

Elsie travelled at a leisurely pace, admiring again the beauty and grandeur of the ship. She wondered what life was like on the first class decks. Elsie couldn't imagine any luxury finer than these clean white walls, and the electrical light in their shining brass fixtures; like the ones she saw each day in Cora's bedroom. Most of the third class supposed that rich folks had cabins draped in velvet and slept every night on silk sheets. Sleeping on material like that would be like sleeping on woven water, or cream. Elsie shivered pleasantly at the thought and wondered if the first class passengers - including her employers - had even the slightest inkling of how lucky they were. Likely not. No one ever did.

She shook her head to clear it from such thoughts and continued to walk forward. Frowning, Elsie scanned the area for something that would indicate that this was the staircase that would eventually lead up to the deck. She was sure there had to be a sign, but she couldn't immediately spot it. Hands on her hips, Elsie contemplated the steps, wondering if she should just try climbing them and see where she ended up.

"Are you going to go up the stairs then, or are you just going to stand here scowling at them?" Charles finally joined her, giving her a disgruntled look.

Elsie glared at him for a moment, then spun on her heel and started up the stairs, not bothering to ask if she was going the right way. She practically heard Charles hesitate before deciding to follow her.

Glancing out of the corner of her eye. Elsie realised that Charles had fallen behind by the time she hit the top of the staircase, he was still three or four steps below her. Elsie stopped and looked back at him questionably, hands fisted on her hips. Charles stopped his ascent and frowned up at her.

"I really hope this is the right way." Charles said finally, crossing his arms and sounding thoroughly irritated. "There's way too many steps. There's no way I'm climbing this again."

Elsie twisted her mouth to one side, trying hard not to laugh. She continued walking forward. She went through a hallway that she presumed led to the second class decks. There was a chained blockade at the end of the path, preventing steerage passengers from entering the higher class deck space.

By the time Charles got there he saw the chain slightly swinging back and forth. He stepped above it and opened the door. At the end it turned out that this indeed was the way to a nice view. The scene on the horizon took his breath away.

Elsie wasn't hard to find. The moment Charles stepped out on the deck, he spotted her standing at the starboard-side rails. As he approached he could she her eyes fixed out on the sea. The picture really was gorgeous- including Elsie in it. The simple colours of the night mixing so beautifully.

He started walking towards her and out of nowhere he said. "You've always been different." That caught her attention and she turned her head to face him, she leaned onto the rails, listening carefully. "You know it."

"Not really." Elsie said softly, sighing loudly. Charles looked at her curiously but she didn't meet his eyes. Scuffing her heels against the wooden planks of the deck, she explained: "When I was younger... my family... well... I expect I embarrassed them a bit. Because I didn't act like a proper girl."

The statement was so absurd that Charles didn't even know how to respond. It was true that Elsie was unburdened by the careful reticence that most young women chose to present themselves with, but that hardly marked her as improper. In fact, Charles thought it made her rather more tolerable than the silly, giggly, delicate swooning types that were a two-a-penny these days. He would have told Elsie as much had she not continued speaking.

"I never could figure them out; the way they're all so content to stay exactly as they are, never even trying to amount to anything more." Elsie shrugged, "all of them, completely happy with being nothing for the rest of their days. Even little children are blindly following exactly the same path as the others with no question at all." She inhaled deeply, she was telling him some things she had never told anyone else before, but here she was standing, in the middle of the Atlantic, telling her secrets and thoughts to a person she had known for years.

"I'm perfectly happy with my life. I, at least, have achieved something. I get to travel and I get to speak to different people each day. It's not a very big luxury, but at least I've moved a little from where I had begun."

Charles frowned. "Well, I suppose I'm a bit like that." He said, feeling mildly offended that she should think so low of people who understood the futility of trying to aspire beyond their means.

Elsie looked at him sideways and shook her head. "No Charles, you're not a thing like them."

Elsie looked hard at him then, not the curious sidelong glances she had been shooting him for most of the night. Charles met her stare - and though it wasn't the first time he had gotten the feeling that Elsie really did know exactly what was in his head - it was the first time that he thought he might have some idea what was going on in hers. In that odd moment it occurred to him that perhaps they understood each other better than either of them were willing to admit. Elsie tilted her head to one side and a smile ghosted across her lips before she broke eye contact.

"Nothing ever goes as planned, does it? Things change - and sometimes they're not that bad." She said, as though the conversation had never paused. Elsie pursed her lips, lost in some private thought, and Charles wondered if she would ever tell him what it was.

"But maybe in the end everything turns out to be alright. I accepted the tickets and decided to step out of my comfort zone. And now I get to travel to America on the most beautiful ship the world's ever seen, and on her first voyage no less." She grinned at him, her usual demeanour completely restored, "You and I, Charles, we get to be a little bit part of history." Elsie paused, taking in a deep breath, "Even you've got to admit that's something."

Charles chuckled and shook his head in resignation. "Yes, I suppose it is at that."

"Sure it is." Elsie replied. "So it's not so bad, plans changing. I get to see this ship after all, I wouldn't have met all these people otherwise... or you." She added as a afterthought, though Charles knew perfectly well she had done it intentionally.

Picking absently at her cuticles, Elsie continued with a rueful smile. "Of course, you might have preferred that - not having me talking your head clean off every second of the trip."

Charles almost laughed, thinking that she was teasing but stopped short when he caught sight of how determinedly she was examining her hands rather than meeting his eyes.

"No," He said nonchalantly, as though he hadn't realised that she was serious, "no, I'm glad you're on this trip. It would be boring without you, and I'd be dull as dirt otherwise."

Elsie turned to him surprised, a smile breaking over her face like the sun coming up. He could see how glad she was to hear it. She liked his company - or any company in general. This made Charles think of his own family; they would be sitting around the fire at home and no doubt they would be speculating about his well-being, hoping that he was managing all right without them. He wondered if Elsie's sister was thinking about her, or if he, Charles was the only other person in the world worrying about this poor brave girl. She must have felt terribly alone, but of course, she would never admit it.

"You're a big flatterer Charles Carson." Elsie said, even though she had to know perfectly well by then that Charles wasn't one to say anything without meaning it. She was still smiling. Folding her arms across her chest, Elsie shivered a little.

"It's gotten a bit chilly, hasn't it? I guess it's time I go back below before I catch my death." Once more she smiled at him and said. "Well, I'm off." She hesitated, "You coming?"

Charles smiled and almost said _yes_ , but at the last second he changed his mind. "I think I'm going to stay up and have a smoke."

"Since when have you been smoking?" Her eyes winded in complete surprise.

"Only when I can't sleep." He exhaled sharply before looking out at the ocean, "and I didn't climb all those stairs for only a few minutes here."

Wrinkling her nose a little at the mention of the cigarette, Elsie said, "Alright, then I suppose I won't see you until tomorrow. Good night, Charles."

"G'night." Charles watched her go, disappearing into the warmth of the ship. Once she was completely out of sight, he pulled out a snuff box from an interior pocket of his coat, rolled himself a cigarette and turned back to watch the water roll by.

There was a yellow light from the Titanic's many portholes; overlapping with the white light of the moon and stars - they stitched themselves together through the black quilt of the ocean; silver, gold and pitch black. Charles thought about what Elsie had said, about being a small part of history. He shook his head; on a night like this, he could almost - almost but not quite - buy into her fanciful talk, her big dreams, her desires. Life, it seemed, still had the capacity to surprise him, and that, perhaps, was the biggest surprise of all.

Charles blew a wreath of smoke out into the night and watched as the wind caught hold and blew it out to sea.

"We'll see, won't we?" He said out loud, not even entirely sure what he meant by it, "we'll just wait and see."

* * *

Hot steam - caused by Cora's bath - was slowly rising behind the wooden door. She decided to treat herself a little bit and the hot water was an ideal luxury for her. She leaned her head back, feeling a slight headache that had been caused by the loud music in third class. Maybe she drank a little too much too. It seemed that the beer wasn't a good idea after all. She felt like she was in a dream, and that only the bright light around her and the searing headache she had pulled her out. But she was glad that she was now in her heavenly room, surrounded by peace.

She knew that she had to talk to Robert. Perhaps he wouldn't react the way she hoped he would, but he was hurt nonetheless. And she was angry at herself because she knew what she was going to cause him, but at this moment she didn't care at all.

Her head started hurting even more from too much negative thinking. She relaxed her muscles in the hot water, they were sore and aching after such a long day. The few candles around the room helped her to unwind. She slowly rubbed her sponge around her skin, leaving behind little bubbles that removed the dirt and left the enchanting smell of roses.

Once she decided to stop her bliss, she stepped outside. Cold air immediately hugged her body and she shivered a little. Finding her silky robe, she wrapped it around her fragile body. The cold fabric on her clear skin was a divine feeling. Her damp dark curls danced around her shoulders as she made her way out of the bathroom.

She walked out to find her husband sitting on the end of the bed. He was looking at some papers, but as soon as he heard her coming he set them aside. Cora fully had his attention and he had that innocent smile drawn on his face, and it only made her giggle.

She slowly walked towards him, her bare feet touching the fluffy carpet beneath.

"Feeling better, love?" Robert said. She moved closer to him, so that she now stood completely in front of him, tying the knot on her silky robe.

"A little." Cora bent down to kiss him. When she tried to break the kiss, he pulled her over and kissed her back passionately. After a few minutes of them kissing like that, an idea came to Cora's mind. She slowly let her hands travel up and down his chest before starting to unbutton his shirt.

He turned dead still and he clamped his hands over Cora's wrists. She didn't move, she didn't dare to breathe, she just stood there waiting for his next move. Her heart was beating at an unimaginable speed as her confusion grew. Robert pulled away to look at her face, disappointment written all over it, "Cora, no." He was stern and his eyes were hard; he carefully released her wrists.

"Why not?" Cora narrowed her eyebrows, looking confused.

"We have to talk." He muttered and Cora immediately collapsed on the bed next to him.

"About what?" She inhaled deeply, looking into his eyes, but he avoided her gaze.

"You know about what." He said dryly and heard her deeply sighed. "Why did you go with him?"

"I don't know." She said instantly, but her voice was calm. She clenched her hands in her lap, she felt guilty but she really didn't know the right answer to his question.

"That's not an answer." Robert muttered, turning his head to look at her.

"Well, that's the only one I have." She rose her head up and looked at him straight in the eyes. "I just wanted someone who cared."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He frowned.

"You know what it means." She raised her voice and stood up, leaving his side.

"I don't know if you're aware, but you're not the easiest woman to predict." Robert smirked and looked at her. Just then Robert suddenly realised - she was lonely. The thought came to him clear as crystal; lonely and a little bit scared as well.

Feeling guilty for her tone, but not so guilty that she could stop herself from continuing, Cora said: "Well, I am." She clenched her fists and brooded quietly for a minute. "Besides I don't see how talking would make it any better. It can only make it worse as far as I can tell. You wanted to put me in a bad mood in the first place, didn't you? I know what I've done, and I feel guilt for it." Cora paused looking at Robert, who speechlessly sat on the bed. Her blue eyes filled with tears, it was only a matter of time for when they would spill out onto her rosy cheeks. But not quite yet, she wouldn't let them fall just yet, "What's done is done, right?"

There was a beat and then Robert said. "Why are you getting so upset if nothing happened in the first place?"

"Because nothing happened and I can feel that you don't believe me!" Cora spat, nervously pacing around the room.

"Who said I don't believe you?" Robert's eyebrows narrowed, looking at her in shock.

"I can feel it. I know it." She looked out of the window, now the tears freely rolled down her face. "You've been acting strangely for these past few days. You look at me differently, actually you look at me like you despise me. You don't even notice me anymore... you... you-"

" _Me_?" Robert cut her off and laughed in disbelief. "I watched you all those days and-"

"And did absolutely nothing at all." Cora proclaimed. She glared at him but got no response - he just stared blankly at her, still processing her words - a fact that only made her angrier, "God!"

Looking thoroughly confused now, Robert put his fingers to his temple. "Good Christ," he commented to no one in particular. "You're confusing."

Cora narrowed her eyes and glowered with all of her might for precisely five seconds before bursting into tears.

It was hard to say who was more surprised by the turn of events - Robert, who bolted upright and looked terrified, or Cora who clapped both hands over her face and, mortified, made a run for the door. Despite her head start, Robert moved faster and before Cora could disappear from the room, he had caught her by the upper arm.

"Hey darling," Robert said, clearly alarmed by her behaviour, "wait a minute. You can't just go."

Cora tried to pull free but Robert tightened his grip and pulled her back. Cora struggled half-heartedly and finally snapped, "Robert, let me go."

He immediately relinquished his hold. "All right," he said taking a step back, "I'm sorry." He looked at her, face creased with concern. "Dear Lord Cora, I didn't mean to... you know I didn't mean anything."

"I know." Cora waved him to silence. She wasn't even crying anymore; other than some residual of wetness on her cheeks, nothing appeared amiss. Whatever cracks had engraved in her defences, she had walled it right back up even tighter than before.

"It's not you. It really isn't you." She sighed, slowly calming herself down.

Robert looked vaguely relieved, "You sure?"

Cora nodded. "Yes." She wiped her damp cheeks angrily, furious with herself, "It's nothing... It's just... I'm fine."

"Clearly." Robert said, rolling his eyes. He made a small, helpless gesture with his hands. "Cora, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing," Cora repeated, more firmly, "it isn't anything to worry about." She wrapped her arms around herself and looked away, "I'm just... I guess I'm a bit homesick after all." She made a low, frustrated noise in the back of her throat.

"Robert, why would you care anyway? You haven't cared these past days and now you have decided to show your interest in me."

Robert narrowed his eyes at her and she spread her arms wide.

"Why do you care _now_?" She demanded, half despairing, half exasperated.

"Well maybe I came to my senses!" Robert snapped back at her so quickly that Cora was positive that he had spoken without even thinking first. Cora's eyebrows shot almost to her hairline. Robert rubbed a hand across his eyes.

"I do care Cora. I've always cared. I just guess that my..." He paused, avoiding her tense gaze, "... my jealousy or even my pride have made things worse. You know that I'll always care for you. I just don't like it when you're around that man, and I can see that he's crazy about you."

"That's absurd." She paused and inhaled deeply. Her eyes darkened and suddenly she realised she needed more air than usual. "And you know that I'd never want another man besides you." She smiled faintly and approached him.

"He was just..." She stopped unsure of what words to use, "he listened to me when I needed it the most. We share some same interests and that brought us closer." She looked pleadingly at him, her eyes softened and a little smile formed at the corner of her lips. "That's all, I hope you know that."

"And you know that you can always talk to me." He put his hand on her shoulder, calmly moving it up and down. "I'm always here for you."

"But sometimes you have to see some things by yourself." She breathed in his contagious perfume and for a brief second she thought she was lost. Cora put her palms onto his chest and pushed closer.

"You believe me, don't you?" She said, her voice a little shaky. She smoothed the fabric of his shirt with her palms. Cora placed a hand directly over his chest, feeling his heart bumping inside at a rapid rate.

" _Do I?_ " Robert said. He let the question dangle for a moment before continuing. He could see the seriousness on her face, her expression shocked by his words.

"Kidding." Robert said quietly and let out a faint chuckle. "Of course I believe you." As soon as he said that, Cora gave him a solid back-handed slap across the shoulder that was hard enough to make him yelp.

"You better." Cora exhaled deeply, letting go of all her frustrations.

She breathed, giving him a half smile. "Now we need something to lift our spirits, don't we?"

Cora slowly leaned forward and they just stared at each other's eyes, not speaking. She turned her head and gazed as deeply as she could into his eyes. There was so much love and devotion hidden in their mysterious depths. Cora knew the same love was mirrored in her own eyes. He slowly leaned forward and she closed the distance. They embraced in the most passionate kiss they had ever had, it was perfect. Cora's eyes closed and her lips moved with his.

And the next minute, before they even realised what was happening, he was pushing her against the mattress and kissing her senseless. Perhaps it was the exhaustion that made him too tired to argue against Cora and her excuses. In that moment, Robert just wanted Cora to stop talking. So, during her complaints, Robert crushed his lips against hers, her protests dying short.

Robert was shocked himself. His instincts told him to pull away instantly. And yet she was responding to his kiss, tugging his collar and pulling him closer. She tasted like strawberries and her skin smelled like fresh roses. Robert's tongue swiped across her lips, intertwining with hers like twisting vines. He nibbled her lower lip, stirring a moan from the back of her throat. _Yes, definitely strawberries._

Robert didn't want to stop kissing her. Instead, he was running his hands down her curves and to her waist, pushing himself against her.

A few minutes ago they had been arguing, conversing, fighting, and then the next, they loved each other so fiercely it was like nothing had happened at all. This night was going down a completely different path to what Cora had imagined.

Cora broke the kiss with a gasp. Her eyes were wide, equally as shocked as he was, yet darkened with lust.

"Robert." She breathed, slightly breathless.

He didn't give her a chance to continue. His lips were on hers again, his hands pinning her arms over her head, because she was looking for an explanation he didn't want to give - and that he didn't how to explain how they'd come to this. And because she tasted like strawberries and her lips were so soft that it was almost unreal. He felt like he could get drunk from her kisses.

Robert stopped abruptly and Cora blinked back, confusion flickering past her features as he studied her. His eyes lingering on hers. Just like her lips, they were so soft too, a soft shade of pink appeared on Cora's lips, like drops of roses. Robert's eyes drifted to the rest of her complexion. _Would her skin be as soft as her lips too?_

Robert brushed his lips against the corner of her jaw, taking Cora by surprise. He wrapped his lips around the curve of her earlobe, leaving a trail of kisses down the slope of her neck. Shortly after his lips found a path to her collarbone, kissing it slowly. Her skin was soft, smooth - _untouched_.

His excitement instantly was raised when he saw that she wore nothing beneath her silky robe. _Absolutely nothing_. Robert felt a smile pulling at the corner of his lips at the soft moans he was eliciting from her. It was certainly a pleasant change. He felt her resolve weakening underneath him. Her hands travelled up her silky robe, trying to find the knot to untie it.

He placed a chaste kiss to the corner of her jaw, murmuring beautiful as he did so. Cora's heart melted at his hoarse words, her eyes fluttering shut as his lips continued to pepper a trail of kisses down her neck, repeating the word like a prayer between each kiss. Cora bit back another moan when she saw him staring at her, his face millimetres away from hers. His gaze sent a wave of shivers up her spine. Robert stopped with a teasing smirk, wanting to capture Cora's lips in another kiss.

Before he could do so, he stopped, taking in a deep inhale. "I don't think we should," Robert said, tenderness in his eyes. "You don't look entirely..." His sentence was stopped because Cora crashed her lips onto his.

"I'm fine. Stop worrying. I don't need you to worry about me." She immediately rolled him onto his back with a triumphant smirk of her own, straddling his hips.

Robert seemed to sense that he wasn't getting anywhere so he closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. He pulled away slightly just so Cora could sense his seriousness.

"Fine." He said, looking at her again, "But just so you know, I'm going to figure it out."

Cora tilted her head to one side, puzzled. "Figure what out?"

"Whatever is it you're hiding." Robert replied, moving her caramel curls that fell onto his face behind her ear, "Sooner or later you're going to give yourself away."

"I'm not... I don't know what you're talking about." Cora gave a weak smile, feeling the blood drain from her face, "I'm not hiding anything."

Robert smiled blandly. "If you say so." He took Cora's face into his hands and his tone gentled significantly, "and whatever it is, I'm going to care."

"Yes you will." Cora whispered gently into his ear. "Oh God, you will." She murmured and Robert stared. Cora felt her throat close around anything else she might have said. There was a heartbeat's worth of silence in which neither of them moved. Until she continued to tease him like nothing had happened at all, releasing small groans when their lips embraced.

Her fingers reached down his arms, his shoulders and his chest, watching his muscles contract beneath them. Her lips slowly moved across the crook of his neck. Her eyes lingered over a faint scar before Robert caught her hand. Cora saw the hint of pain in his eyes and immediately understood. Bending down to kiss his lips once more their bodies harmonized and they were once again intoxicated by their love.

Still her words were rooted inside Robert's head, it puzzled him. Even though they enjoyed the moment, it still echoed in his mind.

What she wanted to say would still remain a mystery.

* * *

 _See, I was nice. They're finally communicating. And Chelsie fans please don't hate me for another almost-kiss. I think I enjoy those way too much._

 _Now, is everything over with Simon? What is Cora hiding? Will Elsie and Charles become a part of the history? Good or bad one?_

 _This chapter probably left some opened questions and I want to hear what you think in the feedback. I gave you a very long chapter so please be equally nice to me and let me know what you thought by leaving a **review**._


	11. Paradox

**A/N:** _Phew, long chapter! But lots of stuff happens, so hopefully it's still interesting. I'll introduce a few new characters, neither of them ever existed anywhere but in my own brain._

 **One more important note - I'm going away on vacation for the next month or so (I'll be leaving this Sunday) and I'll have limited time writing so it'll probably be a longer stretch of time before I can update again, but I will give my best. Of course, if you review I write faster, it's that simple.**

 _And big thanks goes to **Courtland** for correcting my misspellings and helping me with some scenes. Thank you from the bottom of my heart._

* * *

 **CHAPTER XI**

 _ **Paradox**_

 _"You stood beside me strong and proud,_

 _When we sailed away into the clouds,_

 _The darkness fell and it roared like thunder,_

 _Like the devils hand we were under."_

 _ **13, April 1912;**_

Elsie's third night sleeping aboard the Titanic was an enormous success. She had fallen asleep almost instantly, lulled by the steady hum of the ship's engines. Some people might have complained about the constant noise from the machinery, but Elsie found the sounds immensely soothing, nothing but a pleasant reminder of where she was and where she was going. Her sleep was deep and her dreams untroubled. Waking the next morning, Elsie felt more rested than she could ever remember being in these last few months and longer.

Charles and Jack were already awake. Jack was still pulling his jacket on, looking a little bleary from sleep, but Charles was fully clothed - what a surprise - and appeared bright eyed and cheerful.

"Good morning, lovebird." Jack said when he realised that Elsie was awake as well, a little smirk appearing on his face.

"Morning to you too, Jack." She replied brightly, "Charles." He looked up from the buttons on his suit, smiling sheepishly at her while giving her a small wave.

Elsie climbed down from her bunk and rummaged in her suitcase for her clothes. She had many skirts and even more blouses - only one was really special to her and it was brand new. She got it from Anna: 'it's an early birthday present' she'd called it. Though, Elsie knew that it was really a farewell gift.

Elsie had adorned the middle-aged blouse and newer skirt yesterday, figuring that First-Class-Dinner-Day was worth looking one's best, but today she opted for the more worn-out outfit; even though the frayed cuffs on her sleeves made her wrists itch. Elsie planned to save Anna's present for the day she arrived in New York. New clothes for her new life and adventure.

Before getting dressed Elsie wrapped herself in a threadbare dressing gown and made a trip to the privy where she was able to wash her face and neck while staying out of her roommates' way. By the time she returned to the cabin, Jack and Charles were gone, presumably on their way to breakfast.

Elsie got dressed and brushed her hair - which was a veritable bird's nest that morning - then attempted to work it into some style that didn't make her look like just a common third class passenger.

Giving herself one last look over - checking to see that her blouse was tucked in and that her stockings were straight and not bagging around her ankles as the one stocking normally did; Elsie deemed her appearance presentable. She stepped out into the corridor at precisely the same moment as Anika.

Elsie met the young German girl a few days ago when she accidentally mistook their room for hers. She was a hopeful, lively girl, going to America in search for a better life. Anika was probably Jack's age, no older than thirty.

But Elsie was happy she met somebody new, somebody different. She had never been confronted with someone who didn't speak her language, she was only able to say 'hello' in French, other than that Elsie had no experience with foreign dialects. Of course, a lot of different people visited Lord and Lady Grantham's estate, but she never really got a chance to speak to them.

"Guten Morgen, Elsie." Anika said cheerfully when she spotted Elsie leaving her room. She was busy pinning up her long blond braids into a kind of cornet around her head. Anika too looked well-rested and chipper, as though she was as eager to start the day as Elsie was.

Yesterday Anika had taught Elsie a few common phrases in German and Elsie had returned the favour by teaching Anika the English translations. They had a great time.

"Good morning to you too, Anika." Elsie waved to the German girl, flashing her a grin, "slept well?" She continued.

"Ja, ja." She said, which was at least one word that needed no translation. Elsie grinned, she was already trying to figure out how much German a person could learn in the space of five days. It looked to be a promising challenge.

" _Wunderschön_." Elsie said, twisting the foreign word around her tongue and the girl next to her broke out in laughter.

"Nice, nice." Anika returned the favour and answered in English. She praised Elsie's German, giving her a pat on the back. "You have some potential." Anika stamped out in heavy accented English.

Anika looped arms with Elsie, in such a short time she had grown fond of the English woman, and they continued to walk towards the dining hall. They were much surer of the route already, though, at one point, they took a wrong turn and ended up in a hallway faced with a latrine instead of the dining hall. Retracing their steps they soon corrected this error and made the rest of the trip without any accidents.

The two women took seats in their designated area. Elsie sat across the table from Anika, and Genevieve who sat gracefully, both of her elbows on the table and her chin prompted up.

Genevieve was Anika's roommate who had boarded the Titanic in Cherbourg, France. Her brown, curly hair was braided to reveal a full, lively face. Her clear hazel eyes glittering, watching carefully over the crowded room.

Since Elsie had met her, she had always thought that there was something charming about the French girl; perhaps it was her sense of humour, or perhaps it was simply her good will. She, too, was going to America to live out the famous _American Dream_ _._ For Genevieve, Europe didn't give her a lot of opportunities. She was a true dreamer among all others. She was one fearless French girl.

Despite French being her first language, Genevieve spoke English much more fluently than Anika. Since the two of them shared a room - and the both of them being lively and fiery girls, Elsie couldn't imagine how the two of them communicated, but it was probably funny nonetheless.

"You two are late." Genevieve pointed out.

Even though they were a little late arriving - thanks to their impromptu detour - the food had not yet been set out.

Elsie sat across from them both, which was how she preferred it; she liked being able to see both of her friends at once when they spoke. Not to mention, she had left a free seat on her right-hand side, just in case someone decided that he wanted to join them.

"We know," Elsie answered, straightening her skirt under the table, "we had a little mishap." Elsie focused her gaze on Anika, who smiled brightly.

"D'ye know," Genevieve was saying, "this isn't at all how I figured steerage would be. I thought it would be more like mess halls at the scullery, not near so clean and fancy-like," she held up her starched white napkin to illustrate, flapping it around like a personal flag, "it makes me feel like a real person!"

"You are a real person Genevieve, fancy cloth or no." Elsie said, though she understood perfectly what the other girl meant.

Genevieve didn't even seem to register what Elsie had said and continued exclaiming, "and the food is better than anything I've ever had, don't ye think?"

"Yes, it's very good." Elsie replied distractedly. There were people coming in and out of the dining hall all the time, and each time someone new appeared, Elsie's eyes snapped up to see who it was.

A small, amused sound brought Elsie's attention back to the table. Anika, who had a black, leather-bound book propped on the table in front of her, glanced up at Elsie and jerked her head to the side, "he's over there." She said, turning the page of her book.

Elsie gave her a blank look, "Sorry?"

Without raising her green eyes from reading, Anika said, "Charles - he's two tables to the left, sitting with Jack and that fella Fabrizio." The blonde girl paused and arched one eyebrow, "that was who you were looking for, wasn't it?"

Going crimson from neck to hairline, Elsie stammered, "That is not... no... I... I was looking for Jack, actually." Still, she couldn't help but sneak a glance at the table Anika had indicated. Sure enough, Charles was there, chatting amiably with the other men and apparently oblivious to her presence in the dining hall. Elsie frowned, disappointed.

Seeing this, Anika smirked. "Oh yes, Jack is it?"

Elsie was saved from having to respond to this by the arrival of breakfast. It was a mouth watering fare. Genevieve shook her head at the sheer excess of everything; it was more food than her family would be able to afford in a whole week, let alone for one meal.

With the meal now before her, Anika marked a place in her book with a very faded piece of blue ribbon and placed the volume to the side of her. Glancing at it, Elsie was surprised to discover that it was not a novel or some poetry as she had assumed, but a very well-worn copy of the Bible.

Following Elsie's gaze, Anika explained. "I usually read a verse or two before I go to bed, but I was so tired yesterday I didn't. Thought I'd make up for it now."

Elsie nodded. Talk of religion tended to make her uncomfortable, not because she didn't believe in God - she did - but because her faith was something she preferred to keep private.

Fortunately, the topic seemed to go unnoticed. Genevieve, who was spreading liberal amounts of marmalade onto her toast, decided to ignore the exchange regarding Anika's Bible and said, "Are you gonna ask Charles to sit with us then?"

" _What?_ " Elsie exclaimed. "Good God, are we still on about that?"

"She was talking about it before, not me." Genevieve reminded her, indicating Anika. She looked at Elsie expectantly, "Well, are you?"

"I... no, I'm not." Elsie said firmly.

Anika looked crestfallen. " _Nein?_ Why not, Elsie?" She whined, pronouncing her German accent thickly; she then stuck out her lower lip in a mock pout. "You should. I bet he'd like for you to ask."

Elsie looked so flustered that she almost upended her tea cup, "Don't be ridiculous." She sputtered, "Charles Carson can make up his own mind about where he wants to sit. If he wanted to sit here he would, far be it from me to pull him away from his mates."

"Your face is the colour of a tomato. Calm down." Anika commented, grinning. Beside her, Genevieve choked violently on a mouthful of porridge and began to cough and laugh simultaneously. Elsie looked thoroughly unimpressed with the pair of them.

Not to be sidetracked, Anika continued, "I don't see why you wouldn't want to ask." A thought then seemed to suddenly occur to her and she gasped. " _Mein Gott!_ Do you have someone back at home, Elsie?"

Genevieve, her eyes watering, took a sip of water and cleared her throat vigorously before saying, "With the way she's been carrying on with Charles? I'd guess not."

"I have not been carrying on!" Elsie protested.

Ignoring her, Anika said reasonably. "Well she might have had one, and then was forced to end things on account of her leaving."

In an instant Elsie retorted, "It's not that, and I'll be in America for only a couple of weeks before we head back to England. So your theory does not hold water."

The conversation was quickly veering into a territory that Elsie didn't like and she was slinking around for some way to change its course. However, once Genevieve got an idea into her head, it seemed to be a near impossible task to divert her.

"I had someone - Henry." Genevieve got a little misty-eyed, and stared off into space for a moment before explaining. "Well actually, we never got to be a real couple, on the account of us both knowing that I was going to be going away - and figuring it'd be easier if we stayed just friends. He might be making the crossing next summer though, so then we can be together."

"That would be nice." Elsie said, not sure what to make of this impromptu confession, but hoping that it had distracted Genevieve from questioning Elsie about her own past romances.

 _No such luck._

"Didn't you ever have a special lad back home Elise?" Genevieve persisted in asking. Elsie pressed her lips together and didn't answer, which was apparently enough to make Genevieve bounce up and down in her chair and squeal. "Oh, you did!" She paused for a second, giving Elsie a questioning look. "Or you still do?"

Elsie couldn't help but feel annoyed. "So what if I did; what's it to you?"

Genevieve blanched a little. "I don't know." She said in a small voice. Twisting her napkin in her hands, she added, "You're my friend now. I thought you might like to talk about things like this."

Immediately Elsie felt terrible for having snapped at the other girl. She felt as though she had known Anika and Genevieve so long already that it was easy to forget that they were just lonely girls like her, trying to find people to fit into this new life they were creating for themselves. Genevieve didn't mean anything by her questions; she just wanted someone to talk to.

Even though she didn't want to talk about it, Elsie gave up and said. "Yes, there was a man... or there still is. I don't know." She took in a deep breath and looked away, "I don't like to talk about it. It's complicated."

"Oh," Genevieve said, "so I was right, there's someone." She gave her a wink, but stopped all her actions when she saw the seriousness on Elsie's face. "Oh, I'm sorry Elsie. You don't have to tell me about it, I won't ever ask again."

Elsie looked at Genevieve, then at Anika - who was pretending not to be interested in the conversation they were having; even though she clearly was - and realised, quite suddenly, that she did want to tell them, even just a little, even if it was just so there was someone else in the world that had some idea of what had happened.

"I met him a very long time ago," Elsie began slowly, not sure how to put her feelings into words. "And it all somehow started there. Later, our relationship developed into a friendship and -" She stopped, giving her mind a little break, "from there it never progressed into anything else. And now, after all these years, I think we're afraid to risk our friendship." She looked away, avoiding their gaze, "I always thought that those things existed only in books, but here I am - stuck in the middle." Her laugh was bitter. "And I'm sure I'll always get that lovely, weird look or facial expression when I talk to him. I just can't help it."

Genevieve seemed to pounder on this idea. With her cheery disposition, Elsie found it hard to believe that her friend had ever truly known heartbreak.

Eventually Genevieve asked, "Do you love him? This man of yours? I mean, truly, deeply love him?"

Elsie shrugged, "I think I do." She blushed slightly, "And I think that's the saddest part."

Genevieve made a sympathetic sound. "Oh Elsie, is it that bad?"

Anika mumbled beside her. "Obviously." She said, "Look at her face."

Elsie didn't actually know what her face looked like, but she assumed it wasn't precisely the countenance of a person filled with joy. It never was, when she really thought about it.

"Yes, it is bad." _Maybe worse_ _,_ Elsie thought silently. She gazed across the table at her two new friends - at Anika, who had such an innocent soul, looked as though she was about to cry at the mere thought of Elsie in pain, and at Genevieve who was the most conservative, careful and cautious person she had ever met.

"Well," Anika said finally, "I think we should stop discussing our tragic romantic pasts, we're not even through with breakfast yet. Suppose we let it alone for now?"

"That's fine for me." Elsie intoned, throwing her friend a grateful look. Anika acknowledged it with a small smile and a nod of her head.

Genevieve nodded, she was clearly disappointed that she wasn't about to get the full tale of woe. "Yes. We can talk about something else but..." She raised her head and looked behind Elsie who was looking curiously at her, "Speak of the devil."

"Can we join?" A familiar voice spoke up and Elsie froze on the spot, not daring to turn her head around.

"Of course." Genevieve smiled widely when she saw Jack, Fabrizio and Charles taking seats around the table.

Elsie glanced at Charles who took a seat at the other end of the table, slightly disappointed that he didn't sit next to her. Charles nodded his head in acknowledgement of her presence, but didn't say anything. And Elsie could help but wonder what he was thinking about.

After a few minutes of silence, Elsie helped herself to one of the oranges that had already been placed in a basket on the table. The fresh fruit was probably Elsie's favourite part of every meal.

"Why did you stop talking, Elsie?" Anika questioned.

"She wants to talk to Charles, obviously." Genevieve teased before Elsie could answer herself.

Anika said earnestly, "That's sweet." She dropped her voice into a conspiratorial whisper, "I think the two of you should get married."

Elsie gagged on her orange. " _What?!_ " She yelped, drawing concerned looks from several people, including Charles.

Leaning in close to Anika, she hissed, "Are you daft?" I can't _marry_ him."

Anika smiled gently and giggled, "You can because it's _love_. I recognise that lovely, weird look you get. It's _him_. It has _always_ been him."

A noise Elsie didn't even know human beings were capable of making - one that sounded as though she was trying to swallow a boulder - escaped Elsie's throat.

"I... I... what?" She squeaked again, feeling a wave of heat wash over her entire body, "I don't... that isn't... what?!"

"Aw see that?" Genevieve said, gently batting Anika across the shoulder, "Look what you did."

Elsie was still so thoroughly gobsmacked that she couldn't even begin to form a rational response. Fortunately, she was spared the effort by the sound of a very insistent bell reverberating around the dining hall. Grateful for the distraction, Elsie, along with all of her friends, turned to find the source of the noise. A white-coated steward standing near the entrance to the kitchen seemed to be the perpetrator: he was holding a small golden bell in one hand, and using his other to silence the clapper.

The steward cleared his throat. "A reminder to third class passengers," he began formally, as though reading from a script, "no food is to be brought below to their cabins."

Anika, who Elsie knew had gotten into the habit of swiping a few extra rolls of bread for a midnight snack, fluttered her hand shyly to catch the steward's attention, "Um... what's the reason for that, then?"

At this, the steward broke his formal act all together and gave Anika a wry smile, "It encourages the rats."

Several women gave shrieks of alarm, several men guffawed with laughter.

"They have rats on this brand new ship?" Genevieve demanded indignantly.

"They're always the first to board." The steward replied indifferently. He then grinned at the group and added, "Enjoy your meal."

Genevieve scowled. "Rats!" She repeated, shaking her head, "I guess that's the end of your contraband bread, Anika."

Anika pouted. "But I like _my_ bread." She said huffily, "Stupid rats."

Elsie sighed, eyeing her meal. There was just so much food that she couldn't even eat half of it. Leaning against the chair, she said, "We would pay a fortune for a meal like this back home, and here we get it all for free."

" _Free?_ " Charles interjected from Elsie's left. "That's not entirely true."

Elsie made a mock insulted noise and spun around on her chair. "You eavesdropping there Charles?" She asked with a grin, pointedly ignoring the significant look that Genevieve and Anika had just exchanged. _Was she really that easy to read?_

Charles smiled back and turned his head, focusing on something else; while Jack seemed interested in arguing with her.

"If it's so free, why d'ye s'pose they charged us sixty shillings fer our passage?" Jack demanded playfully.

It was easy to see that Jack was intentionally trying to get her riled, which was why Elsie only smiled calmly. "No offence Jack, but it's not like any of you guys here paid for those tickets." She paused, rolling her eyes, "You and Fabrizio won them on a poker game, and Charles and I got them from our employers!"

They all fell into silence for a few seconds, taking in her words - until Elsie got the urge to speak up again and waved an arm around at the room, "And let's be honest, sixty shillings is a fair price I'd say for all this fancy living."

"Oh aye?" Jack shot back, getting up from his chair to pluck Elsie's white linen napkin from her lap. "And what do I need with all of this fine cloth and these electrical lights?" He asked, dangling the offending cloth in Elsie's face.

Elsie leapt out of her chair and made a grab for the napkin, which Jack held easily out of her reach. She scowled, but was unable to maintain the stern expression for any length of time. Elsie had the district feeling that Jack was trying to make up for his earlier doom and gloom attitude by passing it off as playful banter now. When Elsie made a second attempt to get hold of the napkin, Jack tossed it away. Elsie grabbed it in midair, gripping the cloth by one corner and used it to whip Jack sharply across the backside. When Jack spun around to glare at her, Elsie smiled innocently and fluttered the napkin at him.

"Well Jack Dawson," she said sweetly, "I'm going to have fine cloth, electrical lights and a whole lot more."

Jack smirked at her, "How'd I know ye'd say that?"

Elsie was suddenly aware that they were causing something of spectacle. Genevieve and Anika were staring openly along with Fabrizio and Charles, of course, but so were a number of other people at the surrounding tables. If what Jack said was true, and people were really worried and doubting their future in America, then this was an opportunity to change that, maybe to get them a bit excited.

Elsie crossed her arms nonchalantly and said in a much louder voice than she had been using previously, "Well I am, and everyone else here can have it all too."

Behind Elsie's back, Anika gave a delighted squeal and dissolved into giggles. Several other people reacted as well, which only made Elsie's grin grow wider. Jack was looking at her in utter bewilderment, "What in the name o' God are ye..."

"The _New World_ Jack," Elsie said, "Land of _opportunity_." She gave the last word a special intonation. "And everyone can rise straight to the top."

Jack had evidently noticed that they had gained an audience, because he threw bemused glances at the neighbouring tables before hissing, "Elsie what are you trying to do?"

Elsie gave him a sly look, but otherwise ignored him, "I want people to believe in their dreams. They can do or be whoever they want. Anyone here can have a real profession."

Anika quite literally started to bounce up and down in her seat, "Me too!"

"Me three." Genevieve put in with a wry grin. When Elsie looked at her in surprise Genevieve continued, "Well sure, I'm not gonna sit around letting you two have all the glory, aye?"

Jack, who had apparently been floundered into speechlessness two minutes ago, found his voice again, "And you, Elsie, you're a lady's maid?" He scoffed, "Oh yes, I mean waiting hand and foot on some rich biddy?"

"I could be whatever I wanted and this is the job that I have chosen." Elsie said haughtily, "Plus, I get to live in a great grand house and be around fine people all day and night."

Once again Jack stood speechless in front of Elsie, his big coloured eyes looking fiercely at her.

"Well, I'm gonna be a sewing girl." Anika's cheerful voice broke the silence, not picking up on Elise's indignant tone at all. "Just like my mother." Her eyes lit up when she spoke about it, good honest hope shining through.

"My cousin Sarah - she's just my age and exactly like me - she went to America two years ago and married this fella called Joseph, and his sister Eleanor owns a dress making shop in New York and Sarah works there. She told me that they said I can work there too!" She said, her German accent visibly heard.

Like most things Anika said she spoke fast and giddily and it took a moment of pondering to work out what she'd said, but eventually Elsie caught on to what she meant and grinned.

"You lucky girl, having a job waiting for you like that."

Anika beamed. "Yes, I know." She nudged Genevieve with her elbow. "What about you, what are you gonna be?"

Genevieve gave this a moment of careful thought and then replied. "A governess, I think."

"You'd be good at that," Elsie said, "you've got such a way with children."

The French girl nodded. "That's what I thought. I'd like to find a nice family, with lots of young ones to look after. And be like Elsie, in one big fancy house." She added with a slight shy smile, as though embarrassed to admit that she too had dreams of rising above her current situation.

Jack, meanwhile, had returned to his seat and, together with Charles, was now looking at the three of them in a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment, as if he couldn't quite figure out if they were mocking him on or not.

"Something wrong, Charles?" Elsie asked with a mischievous grin. Charles narrowed his eyes and spun around on his chair.

"So you think America is all it's cracked up to be, do you Elsie?" Charles said from the end of the table.

Elsie removed her eyes from Charles and spoke up with a smile. "Sure," she replied brightly, "Why shouldn't I think so?" From his chair, Charles made a low, wordless sound of pure annoyance. Elsie resisted the urge to pinch him.

"It'd be good if it was, wouldn't it?" Fabrizio joined the conversation, his soft voice almost lost in the din of the saloon. "I hope you're right, Elsie."

Quiet Fabrizio's gentle statement was enough to make Charles look up from where he had previously been glowering into his cup. Elsie smiled at Fabrizio and flashed Charles a triumphant look before returning to her seat. Charles watched her progress, his face inscrutable. She was always fighting for what was right, but never to this level. He thought of how she really cared for all these people. _Why is she doing all of this?_

When Elsie arched an eyebrow at him in question, however, Charles quickly looked away.

Mostly everyone had turned back to their meal by then, but Elsie could hear the people chattering animatedly with their neighbours. Elise felt positive that the mood in the dining hall had shifted, and that the buzz of nearby conversation now carried with it a definite note of excitement. Maybe that was wishful thinking, maybe it was only what she hoped to hear. Elise glanced at Fabrizio, who was talking to Jack with a bright smile painted across his face. Maybe she was imagining things, but Elsie didn't think so.

Anika certainly seemed to be brimming with anticipation. She grabbed both of Elsie's hands across the table and said, "Elsie, Elsie it's gonna be grand. Just like you said; I know it will."

Elsie grinned at her friend and gave her fingers a squeeze. "Yes, I know so too. You have an amazing future ahead of you." She replied, thinking about all the reasons she was here too. Talking like this gave her hope too, hope that things might turn out right in the end.

Elsie became lost in thought for a moment as she looked around the tables and people that surrounded them. There were so many different people here. Every single one of them with different dreams and thoughts; with different points of view on the world and different hopes to put their faith onto. One American, two Englishman, one German, one Italian and one French. So many different nations and mentalities - so many different fates. All of them heading to the same place.

While Anika chattered on about her plans for the future, with Genevieve adding the occasional two cents, Elsie cast a sidelong glance at Charles. To her immense surprise, he was no longer hunched over his plate, scowling like the world was ending. He was, in fact, watching Fabrizio and Jack, the way Elsie had watched them earlier, no doubt noticing that tiny, scared Fabrizio looked more lively and animated than he had since they'd set sail.

As though he sensed Elsie watching him, Charles turned around. When he caught her eye she grinned not her usual full-of-cheek expression, but a gentler version of it, one that was almost encouraging.

She wanted so badly to tell him to let himself believe. Maybe Charles caught something of this in her look, because he blinked at her and immediately turned away again; his face just as unreadable as before, save for the tiniest, tiniest upward pull of the corner of his mouth. It was almost a smile.

Elsie gave a satisfied nod and turned back to her friends. It almost would do, but for now, it would do.

 _It would do._

* * *

In Rose's first class bedroom, Cora sat curled on the sofa with one leg tucked underneath her dress, and the other swinging a restless pattern in the air an inch or so from the floor. That was the pose she felt most comfortable in - and in that moment she didn't care for ladylike manners. She had one elbow resting on the back of the sofa and she had propped her head up on her fist, all the while hoping that she appeared at least slightly attentive to what was going on around her.

Rose, who was busy with her embroidery said, "It's nice being able to do something in peace. I'm done with having my mother hovering around telling me to go faster." She said, rolling her shoulders to relax her muscles.

"I'm sure." Cora said absently, remembering how it was living with her own mother. She knew from Rose's near-constant chatter, that her friend's mother was a little too harsh on her, telling her who she should marry and all that other stuff. This really took Cora to the past, remembering how she had married Robert. At first it wasn't a lovely marriage, but thank God they had fallen in love.

Cora envied Rose her embroidery - she had not thought to bring along a project of that sort, though sewing had always been a favourite hobby of hers. The steady click-clack of Rose's needles made Cora's fingers itch.

"We have too much free time." Rose continued, "when I write to my friends, they'll think I'm not having any fun."

Rosamund collapsed down on the sofa beside Cora just in time to hear this comment. She had been off helping a lady with her three feisty young boys. Rosamund thought the lady - who she had met by accident - was awfully brave to be attempting to make the crossing with all of her children in tow and no one to help. Rosamund had been thinking this because she had offered to watch the three boys while their mother attempted to go back to her cabin to grab something she forgot on the way. Rosamund, it turned out, liked children and she was very good with them. She adored spending time with Cora's girls when they had been younger. Now, she was looking back at her life and her marriage with Marmaduke and how they never had any children, and the thought made her a little sad. Rosamund liked children, but never had a chance to experience a life of a mother.

To Rose, Rosamund raised both eyebrows and said with genuine curiosity, "And what do they suppose you'd be doing onboard then? Swabbing the decks?"

"Well..." Rose said slowly, dropping her embroidery into her lap and scrunching up her face in thought, "Do you know, I'm not really sure?" She giggled, "Maybe they thought we would be made to take up rowing."

Rosamund burst out laughing. "That's what you should tell them in your letter." She said. "That the Captain made us poor first class folks row the boat all the way to America. See what they say."

"I can't do that!" Rose exclaimed, still giggling furiously. "They'd believe me."

Though she would have normally found this banter extremely funny, Cora managed no more than a distracted half smile. A single curl had come loose of its comb and was now dropping across Cora's forehead. She toyed with it, pulling the coil of hair straight and then letting it bounce back over and over again. Eventually this odd behaviour drew the attention of her two friends, who exchanged looks of puzzled amusement.

"What's the matter with you then?" Rosamund asked, after a moment of watching Cora play with her hair.

Cora blinked and dropped her hand back onto her lap, letting the wayward curl bounce into her eyes.

"Nothing." She said quickly, sitting up straighter and trying to look more attentive. "How did you become so good with the younger ones, Rosamund?"

If Rosamund noticed how forced the change of topic was, she had the tact to say nothing about it. Instead, she shrugged one shoulder and said, "I've got a brother. I don't suppose I could help it, could I?"

"I've got a brother, too, you know," Cora reminded her, "but until I had Mary I didn't know the first thing about looking after children. Not really."

"Well, I always had to watch over Robert." Rosamund sighed, "He was a restless child."

Cora considered this. She used to help with small things, but she hadn't been quite old enough to be entrusted with the full care of her brother when they had been younger.

"I suppose you've got a point." Cora finally conceded.

Rosamund gave Cora a long searching look. "Why do you ask? What's made you arrive to this topic?"

"I don't know." Cora said, trying not to squirm under the weight of Rosamund's gaze. "I was just curious, that's all." Sensing that the other woman needed something more in the way of an explanation, Cora added. "I was thinking you'd make a good mother."

"Ah well, we'll never know." Rosamund said as sadness was brushed upon her face and dried there like paint. She then patted Cora's knee in a consoling fashion, "And you're an amazing mother yourself, you know that right?" She gave her a reassuring smile, sensing Cora's dull state.

"Sure she is!" Rose piped up enthusiastically. "I'd be more than happy if she was my mother." The young girl added with a wink. "Besides, it's not like you've got to worry about that anymore. All your daughters are an adults now, so..."

Cora laughed in a way that she hoped sounded at least marginally natural. "Of course. You're right. Pay me no mind - I just get these notions in my head sometimes." She said.

"Whatever you might think sometimes, you were never a dreadful mother, believe me." Rosamund said smiling, leaning against the sofa's back.

The rhythmic click of Rose's needles resumed and Rosamund continued to suspiciously gaze at Cora. She was occupied by Cora's strange behaviour. She seemed distracted by some private thought of hers. Her look was thoughtful and her face looked maybe even a little bit concerned - _but why?_

Cora lifted her face up, looking out of the window and Rosamund couldn't help but wonder what troubled her sister-in-law's mind.

They were pulled back into reality when a sudden knock on the door awoke the room. All three of them turned their heads sharply and looked at the closed door.

"Come in!" Rose raised her voice and in an instant the doors opened.

"My Lady." A familiar voice spoke up, "I'm sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to check if you needed anything before I go."

"Mrs. Hughes," Cora said, hiding a yawn with the back of her hand. The party in third class yesterday; along with her and Robert's love session - which had gone well into the night - had left Cora without much sleep.

"You're not interrupt anything." Cora continued, straightening up. "Please do come in and join us."

"Oh please do." Rose exclaimed, continuing to do her work on the bed. "Of course if you don't have anything else planned already."

"Oh no, on the contrary." Elsie stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She sat on an armchair across Rosamund and Cora.

"Mrs. Hughes," Rose said, her gaze firmly fixed on the new guest, "what do you think New York is like?"

"I don't know anything about it except that it's big." Elsie smiled sheepishly, turning her head to look at Rosamund who also had never visited New York before.

"Do you think it'll be awfully different from home?" Elsie questioned to no one in particular, instead she waited to see who would answer her question first.

"I expect so." Rosamund replied thoughtfully, "I mean right away you know there's not just the English there. It's like this ship - a little bit of everything; Americans of course, but loads of other sorts of people too."

"Hmmm," Elsie rested her chin on her fist, "I wonder what it's like."

Cora shifted her position on the sofa so that the sunshine that intruded in through the windows was out of her eyes, and massaged the muscle in her arms; they were sore from all of the dancing she had done the night before.

"It's nothing spectacular, really." She commented absently. "Just a lot of big buildings - a lot taller than anything we've got in England."

"There's a great big statue too, of a grand lady with a torch." Suddenly Rose spoke, who sat on the bed. "It's in the harbour; it's supposed to welcome newcomers to the country. It'll be the first thing we see when we get there."

"I've seen that," Rosamund said eagerly, "Well, it wasn't a real photograph, just a drawing, but I'm sure it was the same statue."

Elsie turned around on the armchair and looked at Rosamund with bright eyes.

"Really? And she looks like that, torch and all?"

Instead of Rosamund, Rose answered the question. "Yes!" She jumped up from the bed, "she stands like this, see?" Rose assumed the position of the statue, one arm raised as though holding an imaginary torch.

Rosamund laughed. "Just like that, except she has got a book too." Grabbing the first book she found on the table beside her, Rosamund placed it in the crook of Rose's other arm.

Rose started to giggle. "No laughing!" Rosamund reprimanded, struggling not to laugh herself.

Obediently, Rose composed her features into an almost perfect mask of nobility. She raised her chin in a dignified way and stared importantly into the surrounding space. The illusion was ruined somewhat by the fact that Rose had to purse her lips hard to keep herself from smiling.

"There!" Rosamund declared, while Elsie clapped her hands and laughed delightedly, "A perfect Lady Liberty you are."

"What in the name of God are you doing?"

Without breaking her pose, Rose arched an eyebrow and peered to the speaker from the corner of her eye. "Hello Patrick. I'm being the Statue of Liberty, can't you tell?"

Patrick gave a short chuff of laughter. "Yes, you're the spitting image." He said drily. Rose grinned at him and he rolled his eyes.

"And why, dare I ask, are you pretending to be some great ruddy statue, eh?"

"Because," Rosamund answered instead of Rose, "Mrs. Hughes has never seen it." She added while dropping her arms to her sides.

"I hate to break this to you Rosamund, but you've never seen it either." Patrick replied, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a smile.

Rosamund swatted him with the back of one hand. "Hah hah," She said tonelessly, putting the book on the table again. "I've seen a picture, that's good enough until I see the real thing."

"Yes, well we're being stared at." Patrick informed Rosamund when he scanned every eye in the room and noticed they were all focussed on them. "Not that I think you much _care_ about drawing attention to yourself."

"You're hilarious Patrick," Rosamund said. She attempted to smack him again, but Patrick saw it coming this time and sidestepped the blow.

Rosamund grinned. "Ah, he learns."

They lapsed into a silence that was comfortable for all of them, and yet it felt strained to Cora. Cora continued to jiggle her foot in time with the noise and shifted restlessly on the sofa. All at once, she felt that she couldn't sit still for a moment longer and half jumped to her feet, startling her companions.

"Cora?" Patrick enquired, looking up at her in surprise like everyone else in the room. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going for a walk, so I'll meet you later in the saloon." Cora said, deciding on the spot that she needed to get out of the room and go where she could get some fresh air. She felt that if she stayed here, she would explode.

"I think I might be getting a headache." That part wasn't true in the slightest, but Cora thought it might keep them from questioning her sudden departure. "Do you want to come?" She continued on, looking at Rose.

"I'll stay if you don't mind," Rose said with a cheesy smile, "I want to know if I can get this done before lunch." She held up her half finished work.

Rosamund nodded in agreement. "I think I'll stay behind as well." She arched one eyebrow at Cora, "so you can get over your... headache... in peace then."

Cora pressed her lips into a thin line. Rosamund was a lot sharper than Cora gave her credit for. She was sly, just as Violet was.

"All right, then. I'll see you in a bit." Cora spoke firmly and departed from the room.

She steadily walked down the hallway, occupied by her thoughts. She was thinking about her suspicions over and over again. She didn't dare say it out loud, or share her fears with anyone - well not until it was all confirmed.

Half way down the hallway she stopped, wanting to turn around and go to the other side of the ship; in search for the service she knew she much needed, but at the same time she didn't want to know the truth.

 _It's better to live in ignorance, isn't it?_ She thought and sighed, continuing her way to her bedroom. _It's just my desperate imagination._

Throughout a minute an overwhelming sensation washed through her and she began to run all the way to her room. Several people she recognised called greetings as she approached, but Cora blew past them without slowing down. Later she would remember this and apologise for her rudeness, but just then, the last thought on her mind was being polite.

Throwing open the door to her room, Cora was relieved beyond measure to find it empty. If Robert or Charles - or any of Robert's pals - had been there, Cora wasn't sure what she would have done. Slamming the door close behind her, Cora leaned against it for a moment, panting hard, her eyes closed.

 _Could it be true?_ She thought to herself, feeling a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. She had suspected something throughout these past days, but she never gave it much thought.

 _I almost on accident told Robert yesterday, but I'm not even sure myself._

She deeply inhaled and opened her eyes just briefly, hoping it was all a dream. Cora noticed a mirror standing across the room from where she was - and in it, she saw herself and nothing but disappointment fleeted across her face when she saw she was still here; standing within her own fear, fighting and fighting the same thought over and over - becoming more panicked as her fears became stronger, knowing how irrational her feelings were. She was not in a dream, she was here. Unfortunately, she was here.

Cora made her way to the mirror, her movements sluggish as though it was a battle reaching her other self that stood in the mirror.

Cora couldn't ignore it any longer.

* * *

 _Don't you love a little drama? Well in my case it's a lot of drama but anyway..._

 _Love it or hate it? Leave a review!_


	12. Ignorance

**A/N:** _Gaaah, this took so much longer to get posted than it should have considering its shortness. I blame my vacation and uefa that stole my mind. Sorry the chapter is so late, and so lamely short. It's one of those awkward interstitial chapters that sets the stage for a bunch of stuff that's gonna happen later._

Thank you **_Courtland_** for being such a wonderful beta and helping me out.

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER XII**

 _ **Ignorance**_

 _"My eyes are ignited with million of lights,_

 _I'm wide awake in the dead of the night."_

 _ **13, April 1912;**_

Without warning, looking almost panicked, Cora began fumbling at her clothes. She tore her hat from her head; scattering pins around the room and then she undid her dress. She tossed it on a nearby armchair and now she had to remove her hideous corset.

She was in such a state that it took several attempts to get all of the strings from her corset undone. Dumping the corset on the floor - without any of the care she would usually have shown to such an essential and expensive garment - Cora pulled in a breath and everything around her dawdled to a stop; she brazenly lifted her eyes and saw herself in her underwear, just standing there, staring hard at her reflection. Usually when she stood like this, she was mostly interested in how her face looked - but now it wasn't her face she was interested in looking at.

Taking deep breaths and trying to calm herself down, Cora ran her hands up and down her sides. She then held her arms out stiffly and closely inspected the narrow line of her waist.

 _Nothing_.

She looked entirely normal. She turned from side to side, span around and checked her back.

 _Still nothing._

Swallowing hard, Cora turned so that her profile was framed exactly in the mirror. She stared at her reflection, looking for anything, anything that might confirm her fears. She stared until her eyes hurt for staring and her back started to ache from standing so rigidly. But even then, even knowing what to look for, Cora could see no outward sign that she was different from any other woman on the ship. There was no way, no possible way that anyone could figure out what was wrong just by looking at her.

For a long moment Cora stood there like that, convincing herself that all this was just a figment of her imagination; that perhaps, yes, this was just a dream she had hoped she was having. Letting out a sigh of relief, Cora finally reached behind her back and grabbed a fistful of her skirt. She pulled the skirt taut so that the creamy material lay flush with the lines of her body, instead of flaring out from her waist as it normally did. And there. There it was - the damning evidence. The proof that she was not at all what she seemed. Cora dropped the handful of cloth as though it had scalded her. Immediately the skirt fell back into position, covering up her secret from the world.

Unable to look any longer, Cora stepped as far as she could from the mirror. She tossed the skirt away and collapsed on the end of the bed. Her hands were shaking and a cold sweat was breaking out on her forehead, but she was all right, she was still fine. No one would know. But Cora. Cora _knew_. And she was terrified.

 _Could it really be true?_

She pressed her open palms to her middle, feeling the slight swell of her abdomen, so faint that only Cora would have any idea that it wasn't her body's normal shape. Cora took a deep breath, held it and then let it out slowly.

 _It is, it really is_.

She pressed her hands against her forehead, closing her eyes and enjoying the darkness that comforted her. She couldn't tell anyone before she confirmed her thoughts completely with someone professional. Until then, all this would remain a secret. But she knew what was happening, and she was still clinging onto the little hope she was allowed, that all this could not be true.

A knock on the door made Cora jump from her bed. She started looking around the room in search of her clothes. She stared at the door in alarm, then decided that she didn't have enough time to dress herself; so she grabbed her silky robe.

"Who is it?" Cora said shakily, scrabbling under the bed for her pins.

"It's me, Rosamund!" Came the woman's merry voice from the hallway, "Can I come in?"

This time Rosamund carefully asked before opening the door. She didn't want to see another unpleasant scene like she did on the first day of their voyage.

Straightening up, Cora tied a knot on the robe and pined up her hair. "Sure you can." She said lightly as though nothing was amiss.

The door opened and Rosamund walked into the room, slightly shocked by all the scattered clothes lying around the floor.

"Are you coming?" Rosamund asked, her keen eyes taking in Cora's slightly dishevelled appearance.

Cora made a vain attempt to smooth her hair back from her face. "Coming where?" She asked, trying to remember if they had agreed to do something in particular.

"To the saloon." Rosamund explained with an inquisitive tilt of her head, "Or have you forgotten?"

"I... no, I haven't. I suppose I am coming." Cora said, brushing her palm against her sweaty forehead, her mind racing. "I was lying down... because of my head, you know?"

Rosamund nodded vigorously. "Oh yes, that." She trailed off like she was questioning Cora's statement. "Are you feeling better now?"

Cora smiled and found that she was able to do so without it feeling terribly forced.

"Yes, thank you. Much better." She smoothed her hair one more time before flashing a surreptitious look at her waist band.

 _Everything is in order. There is no way she could figure it out_. Cora thought, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, shall we go?" Rosamund raised an eyebrow.

"Give me a minute to change." Cora quietly said, and with that, she vanished behind the bathroom doors.

* * *

"Have you seen a picture too, Charles? Of New York?" Asked Anika, who was sitting out on the deck with the rest of her friends; trying to catch some sun on such a cold day within the Atlantic.

Charles shrugged. "Sure, I've seen one."

"Why am I the only one who hasn't?" Anika whined, sticking out her lower lip.

"Because you lived way the hell up in bloody Germany," Genevieve replied with a teasing grin. "And the rest of us are from cities that actually have shops with photographs. Hell, we've probably all seen the same damn picture."

Anika scowled and lifted her nose into the air. "We have shops in _Düsseldorf_ too, you know." She said primly. Unfortunately for Anika, she wasn't able to maintain the air of rebuke for longer than three seconds, and so she almost immediately beamed and said, "Do you think there might be a picture somewhere on the ship?"

"There might be a print up in the dining saloon," Charles replied, taking a seat opposite Anika, Genevieve and Elsie. "I don't know though, I've never looked very hard." He eyed Anika curiously, "Why do you care so much about it?"

"Because it's gonna be my new home," Anika said earnestly, "and I can't wait to see it. It sounds like such a lovely, grand place."

Charles shook his head. "Ah, I see, you've been talking to this one too much." He jerked one thumb in Elsie's direction. "She has filled your head with nonsense."

Elsie made an indignant noise at the back of her throat. "It's not nonsense Charles!" She said, "Just because you're the only person on this ship that isn't the least bit excited, doesn't mean the rest of us have to be that way."

"Ah yes, so you never fail to inform me." Charles said rolling his eyes. "And I hate to burst your wee bubble Elsie, but I'm not the only person here who's not jumping for joy at the thought of America. There are plenty of people here who would have gladly stayed at home if they had been given half a choice." Charles leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

Elsie stayed silent and Charles was surprised by this. It was because Elsie didn't want to get into a spat with him, especially not now when they were getting along so well, but she couldn't stop herself from glowering at him. Elsie wasn't sure what bothered her more: Charles' pessimism, or the fact that something must have happened in his life to make him that way.

And because she wanted to stay on good terms with Charles for at least two more days, Elsie bit back the snippy retort she wanted to make and instead declared. "Well, I'm going to keep being hopeful if that's fine with everyone."

Anika nodded vigorously. "Yes yes, of course that's fine. I like it better when we all talk like everything's going to turn out right. It's so sad otherwise."

Through the silence in which had decided to join them, Genevieve said. "Aye, everyone lighten up before Anika starts to cry or something."

"I'm not gonna cry." Anika said indignantly.

"Aye and I'm glad." Genevieve replied, giving Anika a fond pat on the knee. "Nothing's more depressing than people bursting into tears all over the place."

Elsie laughed, with just a hint of embarrassment colouring her voice as she remembered her own display of emotions in public a few days ago. "You've got that right." She said.

Charles shot her a fleeting sideways glance that Elsie didn't think she was supposed to have seen. She obligingly pretended that she hadn't.

At that moment, the bell that was to signal lunch was ready to be served, rang out; making all of them jump. Genevieve shot a disgruntled look in the general direction of the sound.

"We've been summoned," she said drily, "Do you think first class has a bell clanged at them at meals?"

"If they do, I'm sure it's a very polite and _dainty_ bell." Anika replied grimly. She got up reluctantly from the bench, stretched and said, "Alright lad and lasses, let's go."

While Anika and Genevieve trotted on ahead, Elsie held back to walk with Charles. He glanced down at her for a moment as she placed her hands into her pockets and allowed him his silence.

Finally he said. "What, so you're not going to try and convince me I'm wrong?"

Elsie smiled wryly. "Ah no." She assured him, "What's the point?" She continued lightly, "You'll tell me I'm just off my head anyway."

Charles made a small indistinguishable sound in his throat. Elsie looked up at him quizzically, tilting her head to see past the brim of her hat, but Charles didn't respond. They continued on in silence down the staircase; to the point where Elsie had to break off so she could put her coat and hat away in her cabin.

She opened her mouth to tell Charles she'd see him in a few minutes, but he cut her off.

"I don't think you're out of your head, you know." He said it delicately.

Elsie blinked. "Sorry?"

"I just..." Charles frowned, as though he was having trouble finding the proper words, "don't know how to think like you do."

"I..." Elsie stammered, momentarily speechless.

Charles took her incapacity to talk to his advantage. "Well, I'll see you in the dining hall, right?" He nodded a goodbye and hurried away before Elsie could even fully register the conversation.

"See you." Elsie said softly into the empty hall. She remained there for a moment; feeling as though she had just missed something very important, before turning with a sigh and heading back to her cabin.

* * *

Sitting in the first class saloon with her two friends, Cora peacefully drank her tea. Though, inside, behind her placate façade, her mind was still racing like crazy - but she tried to keep her composure.

Contrary to earlier in the day - when Cora had been so distracted that she had barely been able to follow a simple line of conversation - was now so determined to keep her friends from guessing of her unsettled mind that she was overcompensating. She laughed too loudly and spoke too fast, and was grinning so hard that her face was hurting.

Her behaviour, combined with the fact that she had hardly touched her lunch was not going unnoticed by Rose and Rosamund. After roughly twenty minutes and an innumerable amount of alarmed looks exchanged between the two, Rosamund burst out. "For pity's sake Cora, what's the matter with you?"

One corner of Cora's ridiculous forced grin unhinged, hanging on her face like a broken shutter. "What do you mean?"

"You're acting a bit strange." Rose whispered, her brow furrowed with concern.

" _Strange?_ " Rosamund repeated incredulously, "She has been acting like a right lunatic!"

This was at least the third time Cora had been accused of being out of her mind in just two days. While this fact would have gone straight for her temper, Cora felt an odd sort of calm settle over her at the remark. Especially with how she had been behaving, it was no wonder everyone around here were starting to question her mental stability.

If Cora wanted them to stop worrying, if she wanted them to stop asking questions; or thinking too hard about what could be bothering her, then working herself into a state was certainly not the way to go about dissuading them. She needed to calm down. And Cora could do that. She had to.

Cora sighed and slouched backwards in her chair. "I know, I'm sorry." She said, "I've just had a lot on my mind since this morning and I suppose I've been... not myself really."

"Well now," Rosamund said with a half smile, still not believing her sister-in-law completely. "You could have just said so in the first place. We would not have minded, you know."

"Yes, well... trust me to make things harder for myself." Cora replied with a wry twitch of her mouth, "but you don't have to worry."

The conversion might have ended there if Rose had not suddenly given a great sniff from her place at the table, and lowered her head so that her red curls were practically brushing her plate. Cora and Rosamund looked at each other and then at the young lady.

"What are you about now Rose?" Rosamund demanded.

Rose sniffled again and wiped her face with a white napkin that was lying on the table.

"Nothing." She squeaked in a small voice.

Cora leaned forward and peered at her friend. "For the love of God, she's crying, is she not!" She exclaimed. Perplexed, Cora reached across the table and gave Rose's arm a shake, "Here now, what's gotten into you?"

"It's my fault." Rose suddenly wailed, drawing a number of surprised looks from their fellow diners, "It's because of me you're feeling bad."

"What? No! Jesus God almighty." Cora said, trying very hard not to start laughing. "It's not your fault, darling."

With this Rose sniffled even louder and buried her head within her arms. People were staring outright now and Cora cast a wide-eyed look at Rosamund, who had not even attempted to stifle her laughter and was now in near hysterics.

"These mood swings from all of you are hilarious." She murmured through laughter, "This arctic air is not doing any good on you two."

Cora gave Rosamund a serious gaze, though her lips were trying hard not to bend into a smile. "Come on Rose, stop that. I promise you, it's not your fault."

Rose raised her head. "Really?" She asked, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Cora nodded emphatically but Rose didn't look entirely convinced. "But if I hadn't been such a nosy wee bint this morning you wouldn't have gotten so upset, but I was and now I have gone and ruined your whole trip!"

"Well, now you're just being a ninny." Cora said, not unkindly, eyeing Rosamund who was still laughing so hard that her face had turned the colour of her hair. "You have done nothing of the sort."

"But I..." Rose began.

Cora cut her off. "You've done nothing, you hear?" She said sharply. "All you have ever been is kind to me. It's certainly not your fault that I happened to be a fool when I went into the third class party; with a man I'd just met a few days ago, not caring about anyone's feelings, about consequences, my marriage, or the fact that I suspected I was..."

And she immediately stopped her mouth from moving. Silence descended around the table like a shower of ice water. Rose stopped snuffling; Rosamund stopped laughing and both of them stared at Cora, who took about two seconds to realise what she had just said - before turning such a pale hue of greyish green that anyone watching would have been sure she was about to faint.

Cora gripped the edge of the table so hard that her fingers cramped. Her mouth felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton; her throat felt constricted to the size of a pin. She couldn't speak, she couldn't breathe.

Rosamund was the first to recover. "You didn't mention that you went down there with that man." She remarked coolly, her expression unreadable.

The words stung like a slap. Cora swallowed hard, willing herself to say something, anything. "I... I didn't want to." She finally managed to gasp, "...I don't know."

"Oh, yes?" Rosamund's voice was carefully level, almost curiously detached, though Cora could sense an underlying thread of something that felt almost hostile. "We warned you, especially me and you didn't listen."

Cora cast a fleeting panicked look around the room like a cornered animal. "It never occurred to me that he wanted something. He was always a gentleman."

"And how did you manage to miss that little detail, then?" Rosamund continued, her tongue like a knife.

"I... I had no idea, I still don't have." Cora stammered, trying hard to regain her composure.

Rosamund said nothing, but her gaze revealed her disappointment and Cora couldn't look at her out of embarrassment. Rose was looking between them with her mouth slightly open. Cora's fingers tightened convulsively on the table, hooking the white linen table cloth under the quick of her nails. She looked at Rose pleadingly; hoping that the girl might say something to break the tension.

"Do you know at least something about him?" Rosamund cut in, before anyone else could speak. "About his family? Is he married? About where he came from?"

"Well sure I do." Cora said a little defensively. "He said...he said that he was visiting family in Dublin city. He was alone, he doesn't wear a ring, how am I to know?"

"So you never asked then?" Rosamund snapped sharply, clearly getting progressively angrier.

"Rosamund." Cora said, looking her right in the eye. "Rosamund, you have to understand that I would never do anything - I _could_ never. You know that. I'm not that kind of a woman." Cora felt her voice trying its hardest not to break, she swallowed and continued on. "And it breaks my heart that you'd think I'm capable of something like that. _You_ , out of all people."

"No, I don't think anything Cora. Absolutely nothing." Rosamund twitched one eyebrow. "I just thought you had more common sense than that."

"Pity, for my common sense has almost nothing to do with it." Cora said ruefully. "He was different. Not the slightest bit the same as others." The words came out in a rush now. "That man, he noticed me right away, came on all friendly, paying me compliments, telling me I was pretty." Cora stopped talking. She knew that she probably sounded pathetic, but she couldn't help herself. She reached across the table and grabbed one of Rosamund's hands.

Carefully, not roughly or with any malice, Rosamund withdrew her hand from Cora's grip.

Very slowly she said. "Maybe I'm overreacting, but you know what my father did to my mother. I'm sorry, it's just my instinct, I can't help it. You can do with your life whatever you want." She looked at Cora hard, taking in a deep breath. "But you know that mama caught him with her best friend." She paused. "Her _best_ _friend_ , who knew exactly what she was doing running around with a married man. It nearly killed my mother, even though she won't admit it. She was so upset when she found out."

Rose joined the conversation and grabbed Rosamund's arm. "But Cora hasn't done that." She said, still squeaky, looking like a child whose parents were fighting in front of them. "Cora would never do that, isn't that so, Cora?"

Once again Rose got no response, it felt like neither of them were listening to her at all. All Cora could do was stare wordlessly back at her friend, her face burning with shame. She dropped her gaze to her lap, twisting the table cloth into a knot with both hands.

"I understand if you hate me." Cora said after what seemed like an age, but it was really only a matter of seconds. Her voice was pitched so low that it was barely audible. "I know that my actions have been out of control these past few days but..." She paused, closing her eyes and sighing deeply. "I hate myself for doing it too."

Rosamund mirrored Cora and closed her eyes, and when she opened them again the cold look was gone. "I don't hate you." She said.

Cora lifted her head and stared, afraid to hope that she had heard differently. "But... but you said..."

"I didn't say I hated you, did I?" Rosamund replied sternly, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "I just said what I did so you would understand... why, I might have been... doubtful... of your story. It's a sensitive topic for me."

"But you don't hate me?" Cora repeated. "Truly you don't?"

Rosamund managed to smile. "Truly." She confirmed. "If you say that you're sorry and it won't happen again, then I've got no reason not to believe you." She looked away and fidgeted with her utensils, poking them into perfect vertical lines. "Besides... you're my family and my friend. Well, after all, it would be an awful shame to lose you." She gave out a laugh.

It felt as though the entire world had been holding its breath and had let it all out in one go; so dramatic was the change in atmosphere it was startling. Rose further shifted the mood by promptly bursting out into tears for the second time that day.

"Bleeding hell, there she goes again." Rosamund said bemusedly. She prodded Rose on the shoulder. "Hey Rose, get a hold of yourself."

"I'm just s-s-so hh-happy!" Rose howled.

Cora and Rosamund exchanged a look and dissolved into laughter. Cora, though, could just have as easily wept tears right along with Rose - because she had confessed; been judged, and had been found worthy of a second chance. Because she had been forgiven. And that meant that there was hope. Things might still work out for the best, that everything might not be as bleak as they seemed. But for now, Cora was going to carefully hide her other secret from the world - her little secret. She had time. She still _had_ time.

Rosamund, still giggling gave Cora a mock-disapproving look. "Oh Cora, don't tell me you're going to get weepy on me now too."

"What?" Cora asked, baffled. She raised one hand to her face and was surprised to find her cheeks wet. She grinned at Rosamund, who grinned back.

"Oh lord, no, it's just from laughing."

And though this may not have been entirely true, it really didn't matter either way.

* * *

 _As always, I'd like to hear if you had a favourite (or least favourite) part in this chapter. Reviews are much appreciated. Feedback is my inspiration!_

 _Have a nice weekend!_


	13. Private Lives

**A/N:** _I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. There really isn't much to say beyond that._ _Anyway, this was a great change of pace after all the angst of the last few chapters. I mean, drama is fun and all, but Chelise and Cobert being adorable is funner (and yes, I know that isn't a word). Besides, we all know there will be drama aplenty in a few chapters, so take the fluff where you can._

 _Thank you for your wonderful support you have given to this story. Your comments are always encouraging and very helpful._

 _Thank you_ **Courtland** _for correcting my grammar and misspellings, and also thank you for being a friend that helps._

* * *

 **CHAPTER XIII**

 ** _Private Lives_**

 _"I should just grab your lips_

 _and say listen,_

 _Tell you everything_

 _then we'll end up kissing."_

 _ **13, April 1912;**_

Charles' careful pre-conceived notions about what this crossing was going to be like were rapidly disintegrating. He had expected cramped cabins, mediocre food, rough weather and bad company; he had, so far, experienced none of those things. Instead, he had a clean bed, more food he could ever imagine, more time to relax than he had ever even been able to fathom, and a ship full of people who were proving far more interesting than not.

And then, to top it all off, Charles had Elise Hughes tramping through his previous existence like she had every right to be there and turned it, and everything else, completely upside down.

All in all, it was making Charles extremely irritable - or at least he thought so.

Currently, he was sitting in the bar, moodily nursing a beer whilst trying to ignore the chatter of the crowd surrounding him. Ever since Elise's ridiculous display at breakfast, people had apparently lost the ability to discuss anything but the wonderful, glorious promise of America. It was: 'New World this' and 'New World that' - until Charles was about ready to throw himself overboard just so that he wouldn't have to listen to them anymore.

Still, Charles couldn't help but at least partially pay attention. At the moment two entirely different set of ambitions were being discussed on either side of where Charles was sitting. To his left, an Irishman, who Charles knew by sight but not by name, was telling a few young boys about how he hoped to work on the railroad; perhaps even one day become an engineer in command of his own steam engine. Whilst to Charles' right, Fabrizio regaled to a large number of others of his plans to open a shop. It struck Charles how many variations of the same theme there was; of how many different ways people could dream the same dream.

Charles took another swing of his beer and sunk lower into his chair. No matter how long he sat there, Charles couldn't make himself join in with the conversation, but at the same time he couldn't make himself leave either. Every time he made up his mind to get the hell out of there and away from all the ridiculous talk about America, something kept him from getting up from his chair. Charles was not accustomed to being so undecided, so pulled into two different directions, and it was doing nothing for his mood.

What was also doing nothing for his mood was the fact that Elsie was sitting at a table about ten meters away, looking so confident and fierce, and even this slightly annoyed him.

Charles must have been staring, because Elsie caught his eye and flashed him that ear-to-ear grin of hers. He scowled and looked away. Charles thought that perhaps the reason he felt so irritated with her was because, when she was like this, so absolutely, radiantly sure of herself, he could feel some long dormant part of his being struggling to surface, a piece of himself that he had abandoned so long ago that he had assumed it was gone for good - and that scared the hell out of him.

Apparently oblivious to Charles' current state of disgruntled annoyance, Elsie breezed over from her table and dropped unceremoniously into the chair directly across from him.

"Somebody asked Anika what kind of things she wants to sew," Elsie said with no greeting or preamble conduct, "I'm not sure what the answer was, but somehow it seemed to involve the colour green and about ten cousins."

In spite of himself, Charles couldn't stop a small twist of a smile from appearing on his face.

"The colour green?" He repeated. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Damned if I know," Elsie said with a shrug and a grin, "Anika is a dear heart and I love her to bits, but I don't always know what she's talking about." Hooking her elbows over the back of her chair, Elsie added, "but I do know that in ten minutes I'll go back there and she'll still be chattering. Girl has got nothing wrong with that tongue of hers."

"Now who does that remind me of?" Charles said with a mock puzzled expression.

Elsie flicked a cigarette butt that was lying on the table at Charles' head. It bounced, instead, off the front of his vest and landed into his beer. Charles gave the offending piece of detritus an indignant look and then scowled up at Elsie.

"Now look at what you did." He exclaimed, trying to sound annoyed but instead coming off as amused.

"Serves you right, you and your smart mouth." Elsie shot back, her eyes crinkling merrily in contrast to her otherwise stern expression.

Charles kicked her heel lightly under the table; Elsie returned the gesture and then grinned. Charles caught himself about to grin back, but then remembered mid-way that not five minutes earlier he had been in a foul mood. Then Elsie had showed up, and there he was, acting like a daft teenager. The realisation caused his smile to slip sideways a bit, taking on the appearance of a grimace that Elsie didn't seem to notice; her focus had shifted to Jack, who, in a bid to impress the agatha red women-folk, was telling a wildly improvised tale about how he'd act once he got to be a police constable in New York, complete with a dramatised arrest; performed using Fabrizio as an unwilling assistant.

Scowling again, Charles went to take a gulp of his drink, but then he remembered that it was now contaminated by the drowned remains of a cigarette. Glad for an excuse to get up from the table, Charles scraped back his chair and got to his feet.

The movement caused Elsie to look away from the hilarity in front of her and squint up at him. "Where are you going?"

"To get a new drink." Charles replied brusquely; tapping the rim of his glass with one finger.

Elsie smiled sheepishly. "Oh. Right. Sorry about that."

Charles shrugged, made a vague grunting noise and hurried away from the table. When he dared to glance back at Elsie she was once again immersed in the spectacle of Jack making a complete arse of himself. Good. The last thing Charles needed was her getting up and following him.

It didn't make a damn bit of sense the way one woman, one mouthy, indescribably different woman could, in three days, break down almost thirty years worth of ingrained indifference and disillusion. Charles was on this ship, not because he wanted to be there, not for some ridiculous fantasy, but because he had no other choice. So why on earth did he get like this while being around Elsie for five minutes, and end up feeling as though maybe his disillusions weren't entirely true anymore?

Grabbing a fresh pint of beer, Charles took a pre-emptive gulp before heading back to the riotous crowd at the other end of the room. He reminded himself firmly that hope was dangerous, that it didn't lead to anything but disappointment and heartache. This was something he knew, something he had experienced firsthand, and nothing that Elsie said or did could change that truth. That was life. That was his life.

Returning to his seat, Charles was just in time to witness the grand finale of Jack's bit of playacting - predictably, it involved Jack tripping over a table leg and landing on his ass - Charles made up his mind to finish his drink and then take off to his cabin where he could be done with all this America business for at least the next few hours. He was tired of listening to it, all of it.

"Ah, you're back." Elsie said, shouting to be heard over the laughter of the crowd, "I won't flick anything else into your drink this time."

"I'd be much obliged if you didn't." Charles replied drily.

Any further conversation was prevented by the appearance of Anika and Genevieve. The blonde German girl took a seat next to Charles and the dark haired one next to Elsie.

"Hullo Charles." Genevieve added, inclining her head in his direction.

"Yes, hallo Charles." Anika echoed, beaming. "It's a fine evening, isn't it? With everyone so cheerful?"

Charles had to fight very hard to keep himself from rolling his eyes. "Yes, it's grand." He replied tonelessly.

Anika nodded vigorously, not picking up on his lack of enthusiasm. "It is, it is!" She exclaimed happily. "I'm so glad you think so."

Elsie, however, was giving Charles that look, that damn infuriating, trying-to-read-his-mind look that made Charles feel so utterly exposed. She twitched her eyebrow.

"Do you think that, Charles?" She asked innocently, "because for just a second there I thought maybe you were wishing you were somewhere else."

Damn. Charles could have thrown something at her; instead he took a measured breath.

"No, I'm fine where I am." He replied evenly, not wanting to give Elsie the satisfaction of being right.

"Sure he is!" Anika chirruped. "Why wouldn't he be?"

Elsie shrugged. "I don't know. Charles is just the sort of person who doesn't believe in talking about what could be." She slanted a look at him, "isn't that so, Charles?"

Charles stared at her, feeling his temper rise. He opened his mouth, shut it, then tried again. What he intended to say was that just because she seemed to live with her head somewhere twenty feet above the rest of the world, that just because she insisted on clinging to useless, stupid, ridiculous hope like it was the only thing in the world that mattered, didn't mean that he had to.

Instead, what he said was. "Just because I choose not to announce it to the whole of third class doesn't mean I think I won't have a good time here, or am I wrong?"

This time it was Elsie's turn to stare, and stare she did, for what felt like an eternity. Just when Charles thought he had shocked her into permanent immobility, a curious expression crossed Elsie's face, one caught somewhere between surprise and satisfaction.

"Well now, Charles," She said with a smile. "Why didn't you just say so?"

Still wondering what had just possessed him to say such a thing, Charles was unable to respond. He merely ran a hand through his hair bemusedly and shrugged. Elsie smiled more broadly.

Anika and Genevieve seemed aware that something momentous had just occurred, but were not entirely sure what it was - they looked from Elsie to Charles and back again in utter bewilderment.

Finally, Genevieve said. "What the hell is happening now?"

"Nothing." Elsie said in a tone that seemed to imply exactly the opposite. She got up from her seat, shook out her skirt and swept around the table to stand behind Charles' chair.

"I'm just proud of my boy here, is all." She added, patting the top of Charles' head as though he were an obedient puppy.

Charles turned around to rebuke her, but his sharp words withered in his throat the moment he caught Elsie's eye. Despite her teasing tone of voice, the look on her face was one of genuine happiness, as though he had just made her day. Charles scowled and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Well… it's true, anyway." He muttered, only partially against his will.

Elsie patted him lightly on the shoulder. "There's hope for you yet Charles Carson." She declared.

To Anika and Genevieve she said. "Girls, I've heard a rumour that the stewards will give out apples and oranges any time of the day. Do you want to go and see if it's true?"

Anika looked eager and then in the next instant apprehensive. "But what about the rats?" She whispered theatrically, as though just the mention of the rodents would bring legions of them swooping down on her.

"They never said nothing about us bringing food here," Elsie said with a shrug, "just to our cabins."

"Aye, and what d'ye think the rats' gonna do, grab the food right outta yer hand?" Genevieve teased, poking Anika in the ribs. "All right, let's go see, I could use a bite o' somethin'." She spoke to Elsie.

Elsie nodded enthusiastically. "Me too. We'll see you in a bit Charles, right?" She said over her shoulder as she was propelled towards the door by her friends.

Charles waved a hand at her. "Yes, sure, I'll be here." He replied half-heartedly. Elsie waggled her fingers at him in farewell and hurried away. Charles watched her go, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth, and then downed the remainder of his beer.

For some reason Charles felt angry with Elsie - with her knowing smile and bright eyes. _There was hope for him_ , that's what she had said. But it wasn't true; there was no hope for Charles, or for anyone else like him for that matter - and what he wanted, he could not get. And yet, Elsie insisted on making people believe otherwise, on making _him_ believe otherwise.

Abruptly, Charles got up from his chair and headed for the door to the General Room without as much as a goodbye to any of his friends. They were all too caught up in their foolishness to notice his departure anyway.

And even though he had told Elsie he would be here when she and the other girls returned, Charles had no desire to stay there waiting for her to come back and start up with her nonsense again. Instead, he would go get his coat and hat and venture up on deck where there was nothing to listen to but the wind. It would be a welcome relief from all of Elsie's big talk.

Of course, deep, deep down Charles knew perfectly well that it wasn't just talk. Elsie really and truly believed what she said. And deep, deep down in the small, quiet, neglected part of Charles' mind; he wondered if what bothered him more was the fact that she believed, or the fact that he wanted too as well, but couldn't.

* * *

The air in the first class saloon was heavy with smoke and laughter. After three days at sea, it appeared that most of the passengers of first class were feeling more at home on the ship, and with each other. Routine was starting to settle in, people were learning their way around the sections of the Titanic's decks, and all anxiety caused by travel and the trauma of leaving home were beginning to wear away; leaving something more comforting in its place.

Maybe it was this new air of comfort and cautious optimism that had helped transform the saloon from boring tea time to a cosy gathering area. Either that, Robert thought surveying the organised chaos with wry amusement, or someone had finally let the Englishmen into the liquor. Probably a bit of both. Whatever the reason, there was no denying the celebratory mood on the Titanic that night.

Robert figured it was jumping the gun - to be acting like they were going to arrive at America the next morning, when in reality there were still a good two or three days left at sea. But Robert had long since given up hope that people would ever behave in a manner that made even the smallest amount of sense. Even Robert had to admit whoever had talked James into picking up his pipes for the evening had to be somewhat of a genius because the man could play, make no mistake.

Tapping his foot to the rhythm of the music, Robert took a sip of his whiskey, stubbed out his cigarette and placed his hand of cards onto the table.

"That, my fine lads, is what we call a straight flush." He announced.

Across the table, fellow Englishmen Patrick and Cal, threw down their cards with a round of good-natured swearing.

"You bloody damn blighter," Cal said with a scowl, "That's two for two; you couldn't play to save your freaking life yesterday!"

"Yes well, I wasn't trying yesterday." Robert replied with a touch of smugness. "Thought I would let you fellas win a round or two so I didn't hurt your pride so much." Behind his chair, a few of the other men whooped with laughter and James clapped him on the back.

"Shut up, you were just lucky." Patrick shot back with a lop-sided grin that indicated there were no hard feelings. "Play again? Best outta five."

Robert laughed. "Ah, no. Sorry boys, I'm out."

"What?" Cal said, his eyebrows rising. "But we just started."

"I know, but I'm waiting for Cora." Robert said easily, leaning against his chair, "She should be here any minute." He added, his eyes wandering around. The thing that caught his attention was a gentleman in the corner of the room accompanied by two ladies.

"That gentleman over there doesn't have the slightest idea what he's doing taking on both girls at once." Robert said aloud, eyeing the trio in question with a wicked grin.

"And you know from experience, huh? Wild unmarried days?" Cal burst into laughter, eyeing Robert suspiciously.

"Well, we won't talk about that now, will we?" He answered, his lips pulling into a iniquitous smile.

Normally Cal wouldn't react to such a sentence, until he caught the mixture of clandestine mystery and pride in Robert's eyes. Seeing that Cal was momentarily at loss for words; taken by surprise by this deluge of information, Robert continued.

"You seem to be getting on well yourself." Robert said cheerfully, seeing Cal enjoying himself next to him; drinking whiskey and smoking cigarettes like there was no tomorrow.

"Oh yes." Cal chirped, slightly recovered from the last statement, "I'm having a grand time." He said, his enthusiasm clearly rising. "Later we'll catch up and go play cards in the General Room. It's more appropriate than here."

He thought a little about the idea before he answered. "First I'll spend some time here with Cora and later I'll join you guys." Robert said casually, taking a sip of his cold whiskey.

"Evening Robert." Cora said, standing behind him, her gentle hand resting against his shoulder.

It was getting to be such a common occurrence, Cora appearing out of nowhere at unexpected moments, that Robert was barely even surprised. Only the slightest twitch of his shoulders betrayed the fact that he hadn't seen her coming. Swallowing his mouthful of whisky; Robert set the glass back on the table.

"Evening darling." He said.

"Lady Grantham." All the others said in unison around the table with respect. Cal instantly got up, freeing a chair next to Robert for Cora. He took her palm into his hands and bent down, leaving a kiss on the back of her hand.

"Now, we'll excuse you." Cal smiled, eyeing the others to get up and follow after him. "I'll see you in a bit Robert." Cal said slowly, giving Robert a pat on the shoulder and then he left with the others out of the saloon, leaving them behind with an empty table.

As soon as they vanished, Cora sank into Cal's chair. She rested her hand limply on the wooden table, giving out a sigh of relief.

Robert tenderly looked at her. Gazing at her big, bright blue eyes which shone innocently under the chandelier lights. She really looked as though she was the queen of the entire damn universe. Of course, that was nothing new; Cora often had that indefinable look, the one that set her apart from anyone Robert had ever met. It was something in the way she carried herself, with her chin up; as though she was daring the world to tell her something she couldn't do. And Robert loved her for it - it was just something in her make-up, something that was weaved together on a string of stars, quiescent inside her. Yet, it wasn't constant either - sometimes she slipped, like in those moments Robert was sure he had caught her hiding something from him. Akin to yesterday when she had started to cry so suddenly inside their room. After all, just like the stars she couldn't shine so brightly all the time.

He looked more closely at her, giving Cora a wary look.

"How are you, darling?" One of his hands travelled across the table until he reached her palm, he squeezed her hand in a tender way, caressing it gently.

Cora clenched his hand lightly in response, keeping her features impassive, but he could hear the finality in her voice when she said. "Oh, I'm just fine." She smiled slightly and leaned against the back of her chair, arms folded over her chest.

Noticing her gloomy state he decided to offer her a drink; so he pushed his glass of cold whiskey across to her.

"Maybe this will lift your spirits a bit." He smiled lightly at her until the smile faded away by her instantly pushing the glass back to him.

"It's whiskey. You usually like it." He added, confusion written all over his face.

Cora breathed heavily as she softly pushed the dark liquid she had been offered once more.

"I don't feel like drinking it today." She said just above a whisper, narrowing her eyebrows at the crystal glass and wrinkling her nose a little when the smell of the drink reached her nostrils. There was just something repulsive about the drink in that moment, she couldn't withstand the scent; it made her feel slightly sick.

He studied her behaviour, trying to decrypt her actions. Robert tried to conjure up the last time she hadn't liked to drink it, or if he had done something wrong by offering it to her. He looked suspiciously at the glass, trying to find the same thing that wrinkled her nose up so, but came out unsuccessful.

Noticing that Robert was trying to understand what had just happened, she quickly decided to change the subject and get his mind off of it.

"So, you were all having a good time here?" Cora slowly asked, her eyes wandering around the room.

"Oh yes." Robert said enthusiastically, his gaze once again was pulled to the corner of the room.

"Why do you think that gentleman over there is carrying on with those two girls? Is he trying to find some way of patching that ego up of his." Robert smirked at the boy across the room, and when the boy noticed him he responded with a self-satisfied waggle of his eyebrows. Robert snorted into his whiskey and shook his head.

"He will be in for a rough night of it, then." Cora said, laughing. Her eyes, too, being pulled to the corner of the room, looking at the young ones having fun.

"You've got that right." Robert agreed, watching the boy attempt to manoeuvre both of the young ladies through the crowd. "I think someone forgot to tell him that though."

Cora grinned. "He'll learn." She shifted in her chair again, as though she was finding it hard to sit still. "This is nice, isn't it? Seeing everyone relaxed and enjoying themselves."

"Yes, it is." Robert replied while facing out to the middle of the room, but he watched Cora out of the corner of his eye.

She couldn't stop fidgeting, first with the waist band of her skirt, then the buttons of her blouse, the cuff of her sleeve. She kept drumming her fingers on the table in a rhythm entirely separate to the pulse of the music, and she repeatedly smoothed her hair back from her face; even when there were no stray hairs to be seen. If Robert didn't know better, he would swear she was nervous about something. However, asking Cora if she was alright was a dangerous thing to do.

So Robert said. "What happened to the other ladies? I hardly see you down here without Rosamund or Rose trailing along."

Once again, sweeping a hand back over her curls, Cora shrugged. "Nothing has happened, they're back where I left them." She gestured over her shoulder. "I... just thought I would have a change of scenery is all."

Teasing Cora was about as dangerous an activity as asking her what was wrong, but still Robert couldn't resist putting on a mock wounded look and saying.

"And here I thought you had come over especially to talk to me." He leaned a little forward, flashing her a smirk.

To his immerse surprise and strange satisfaction, two spots of colour appeared high on Cora's cheeks. Even so, she managed a convincingly unconcerned smile.

"Oh, you did, didn't you?" She replied.

Robert matched her tone and bland expression. "Yes, I did."

Cora's mouth pulled just slightly to one side as though she was fighting to keep from losing her composure. Resting her elbows against the top of her chair, she shrugged.

"Well, sorry to disappoint." She said.

"Not particularly disappointed, truth be told." Robert bantered. That made Cora's face go crimson, and, being that he was pretty sure she was about to lunge across the table and throttle him, Robert added hastily, "Because you're here talking to me now whether you had planned it or not." He said, smiling, "And I do terribly enjoy your company."

Cora appeared mollified by this amendment, though her eyes were still narrowed. "Yes, well... you do seem to always end up in my path somehow."

He simply nodded and kept his mouth shut. Robert smiled slightly at her attitude. He loved the way they teased each other so easily. Cora glared at him wordlessly for a moment or two, and then smiled in spite of herself. Robert pretended not to have noticed.

After a minute Cora started fussing with her clothes again, while Robert continued to monitor this behaviour in his peripheral vision. He had the strongest sense that she was gearing up to say something, and though he knew he should probably just leave her alone until she decided to speak, her twitchiness was making Robert edgy.

"Heavens Cora, what's bothering you?"

Cora, at first looked startled, but then she quickly regained her poise and gave him such a look that Robert was sure it would have made something or someone curl up and die. Even so, she immediately dropped her hands into her lap. Robert raised his eyebrows at her in silent inquiry.

Cora rolled her eyes to the ceiling, appeared to take a deep breath, held it for a moment before blurting. "Do you want to go to the General Room with me? Dance maybe, or something?"

Whatever Robert had been expecting her to say, it surely wasn't that. He stared at Cora blankly as though trying to decipher the meaning of her words. Eventually, he decided that she had not been speaking in code - that she had actually meant what she had said. Still, Robert was so taken aback that it was another few seconds before he regained his voice.

"I don't want to go. I don't feel like dancing." Robert said, much more curtly then he had intended.

Cora's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but she managed to otherwise keep her expression steady.

"Sure you want to, everyone dances." She said brightly. Cora attempted a cajoling grin, and reached across the table to lightly bat Robert's arm. "You're not going to let Patrick and Cal have all the fun there, are you?" When he didn't respond her grin faltered like a light bulb flickering. "Come on Robert, dance with me."

Robert shook his head, adamant. "No, no, I told you, I don't want to go." He tried to make light of the situation. "But you can ask Patrick to dance with you. Surely with him you won't end up with a foot full of broken toes."

The grin had disappeared completely from Cora's face now, and Robert felt a sharp pang of dismay. Still she rallied almost immediately, drawing herself up a little taller and squaring her shoulders.

"All right then." She said, as though it didn't matter in the slightest. "Thought I would just ask."

They fell silent.

Cora absently traced the ring of condensation from Robert's whiskey glass with one finger. She was frowning; a crease had appeared between her eyebrows. Robert felt that he should say something, but he couldn't find the words. He wasn't even sure what had just happened, only that he had hurt her in some way.

Cora suddenly jumped to her feet. "Well," She said airily, "I guess I'll go find Rosamund. She will want to dance or play cards, I'm sure." She smiled forcefully, "I'll see you later, Robert." She bent down and slowly pressed her lips onto his warm cheek, leaving there a gentle kiss.

She flounced away in a whirl of her skirts and brown hair. Robert watched as she was swallowed by the crowd and then swore at no one in particular. Robert raked his fingers through his hair and wondered why he and Cora seemed to part ways like that most of the time.

At best he had just wounded her pride, and Cora was fiercely proud. It was true, though, what he had said, about not being in the mood to dance. It was different to dance in front of the first class than in the third. In first class he thought about it as a duty, in third class he really felt it as a passion. But here was the kicker, the thing that had caused his knee-jerk reaction to her invitation: was that even though he didn't feel like it, he wanted to say yes. Because it was her.

The logical part of his brain, the part that ruled Robert's life and had the final say in every decision Robert made told him to stop being an idiot. If she was angry it would eventually pass her. Like it always did. There was no need to worry about her, she would find someone.

But hadn't he made that mistake before? Allowing Cora to slip away like that.

And that was the other part of Robert's brain: the much smaller, largely unused part that was doing its best to be heard. It was telling him that someday, maybe tomorrow, maybe in a week, maybe in a year, Robert was going to regret not having danced with Cora. And that pissed him right the hell off.

He ghosted his fingertips over his cheek; touching the spot where Cora had left a tender kiss; it tingled like it had been scalded into his flesh. He thought of it as a sign and downed the reminder of his whiskey in two swallows, then got up from his chair. He was fairly certain that he had hurt her, and he knew, too, that he had to make things right.

Crossing the room for the third time, Robert stopped at the corner Cora had occupied previously. He saw Cora, Rose and Rosamund standing with their heads close so they could hear one another. Cora had her back to Robert so it was Rosamund who saw him first, and when she did her eyes widened a fraction and then she tersely kicked Cora in the ankle.

Cora yelped. "Dear Lord Rosamund, what was that for?"

Rosamund, in response, grabbed Cora by the shoulders and span her around. When she saw Robert her jaw dropped.

Robert raised his eyebrows and smiled gently, extending his hand. Cora stared at him wordlessly as though she hadn't expected him to come after her.

"Look, do you want to go or not?" He demanded, playfully aware of the way both Rosamund and Rose were giggling at him.

"I..." Cora looked at Robert, then down to his offered hand, then back.

"Come on Cora," Robert said, echoing her earlier words, "let's go and have some fun."

A grin crept across Cora's face. She looked up at Robert, nodded and put her hand into his. In an instant he pulled her closer to him, crushing his lips against hers; catching her off guard.

The kiss was hard, yet soft. Fiery, yet passionate. Even though they had kissed before many times, this felt somehow special. It felt as if the whole world stopped and cheered for them. As if fireworks and explosions went off behind them.

Wrinkling her nose a bit when she tasted the whiskey on his lips, she pulled away. Cora looked up at him in surprise, but her lips curled into a smile.

"All right," Cora raised her eyebrows, smiled that little wicked smile he'd come to love, fluttered her eyelashes and said, "but I'd like to come out of this with all my toes intact."

Robert closed his fingers around hers and led her out of the saloon.

"I'll do my best." He promised, "but don't say I didn't warn you."

Cora laughed. And though Robert was surprised by his own actions, and felt as though all eyes were on them - he was almost certain that he didn't much care.

* * *

 _I think some might be confused after reading a few last chapters, but like I said before - everything will be explained._

 _Thank you for reading and please do leave a review._


	14. Where Eternity Ends

**A/N** _**:** Well, my goal was to have this up two days ago, but I guess 48 hours difference isn't so bad. This is pretty much the climax of the story. By the end of this chapter we've finally entered the  14th of April. Which means, if you're keeping track, we're almost getting to the point where you should start to be worried... but not quite yet. Actually, this chapter sort of took a life of its own in that what I intended to happen when I started this section got tossed completely to the sidelines and probably won't show up now for a good chapter or two. My distraction went to the point where I should better warn you all about some **M** content so brace yourselves. **May be triggering!**_

 _An incredibly huge **MASSIVE** thanks goes to everyone who reviewed. Thank you for doing it and leaving a comment on my work. It means very much to me._

 _Thanks to my wonderful beta **Courtland** for enduring the difficult task of hunting, ripping apart and burning my grammatical errors. Also thank you for helping me to elaborate some ideas and plots - you're the best._

* * *

 **CHAPTER XIV**

 **Where Eternity Ends**

 _"Was this true love indeed,_

 _or something else I was too blind to see._

 _How could you hear me pour out my emotions_

 _without having any sorrow or devotion."_

 _ **13, April 1912;**_

Arm in arm, Elsie, Anika and Genevieve made their way from the Third Class Dining Saloon whilst singing, "Nearer, my God, to Thee" at the top of their voices. It was a testament to their mutual high spirits - even Genevieve was belting along; given that she normally would have been hanging back looking as though she feared for her companions' sanity.

Elsie Hughes, sandwiched as always between the other two, was feeling particularly plucky. Between the buoyant atmosphere in the steerage decks, the discovery that fruit was indeed available at all hours, and the fact that she had made it a whole twenty-four hours without feeling even remotely close to bursting into tears, Elsie was fairly certain that nothing could being her down from her happy mood.

Between bites of apple, the three women yodelled their way through the song, half-skipping down the hallway and drawing alarmed looks from anyone they passed on the way. It turned out that not one of the trio knew their chosen ditty in its entirety. By the time they reached the main staircase that led up to the General Room and the exit to the Well Deck, they were all alternating between inventing words and substituting choruses of "la la la's" in the place of actual lyrics. They were laughing so hard that Elsie might not have even noticed Charles half way up the stairs; had it not that he turned to stare at them in bewilderment. As it was, the other girls still didn't see him there, doubled over as they were, shrieking with laughter.

Charles must have gone back to his cabin because he had his coat and hat on. Elsie caught his eye, grinned, and opened her mouth to call a greeting. Before she could say anything, however, he turned and bounded the rest of the way up the steps and out of sight. Elsie frowned; it was odd for him to pass by without so much as a hello, even stranger of him to miss out on such a perfect chance to tease her. Puzzled, Elsie allowed the other girls to drag her up the steps and back into the common area, eventually joining back in with the singing despite the new distraction.

By all appearances, it looked like it was going to be another late night in third class. Nobody seemed the slightest bit weary. In fact, if Elsie wasn't much mistaken, the energy in the room was even higher than it had been when she had left.

"This has been such a good day, hasn't it?" Anika said, gnawing on her apple core, "I'm never going to be able to sleep tonight, I know it."

Genevieve laughed. "Lord, I'll have no problem, I can tell ye that," She said, re-pinning a few strands of hair that had come loose from her usually perfect French braid, "I'm just about done in."

Anika gasped and grabbed both of Genevieve's hands in her own. "Oh you can't go to bed yet Genevieve, they've just started the music again," She pleaded, turning the full force of her big blue eyes on her friend. "You are going to stay for just a little bit, aye?"

"Mother o' God," Genevieve grumbled, with a bemused grin, "I'll stay if ye just stop givin' me that face." To Elsie she added, "girl looks like a damned kicked puppy when she does that."

"Oh yes, she does." Elsie agreed. "Maybe more pathetic than that, even."

Anika bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet and squealed gleefully. Elsie got the distinct impression that Anika knew precisely the effect that her beseeching expression had on the unsuspecting public.

"You will stay then?" Anika asked, clasping her hands under her chin and looking as adorable as she could manage, "I'm so glad! Let's go find a place to sit until the dancing starts."

Grabbing Genevieve by the sleeve, Anika took off across the room, dragging the other girl behind her like a very bemused banner. Elsie, laughing, went to follow but then stopped short, remembering the strange almost-encounter with Charles. She had to admit that she was a touch disappointed that he hadn't waited for her and the other girls to return the way he had said he would. Still, he had probably been on his way out for a smoke and would be back in no time, Elsie reasoned. The only flaw in this logic was that smoking was allowed in the General Room, so Elsie didn't see why Charles wouldn't have just stayed here instead of going through the trouble of making a trip all the way to the bow of the ship to get his coat. Perhaps he had wanted some fresh air? It did get awfully stuffy in the relatively cramped quarters of the common area.

Besides, it really wasn't any of Elsie's business where Charles Carson went and why. After silently reminding herself of this, Elsie took another couple of steps in the direction that her friends had headed, but stopped again almost immediately. Sighing, Elsie pressed her knuckles to her temple and looked back over her shoulder at the door. For some reason she couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Elsie chewed her lower lip and bobbed up and down on the spot, impatient with her indecisiveness. What could it hurt to go check on him? Charles would do the same for her, wouldn't he?

The matter decided, Elsie slipped back out of the General Room and headed for her cabin to grab her own coat. From there it was a quick jaunt back to the staircase. Elsie, still humming under her breath, half-skipped up the stairs and up onto the deck. It was cool out, but not cold. There was a pleasant breeze that was blowing; almost whistling along with her humming. The coolness was a welcome change from the occasional stifling heat below decks.

The view out here was simply magnificent. The horizon was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was a handsome blend of pink and oranges that casted a reddish glow as far as the eye could see. The purple clouds were painted across the sky; it was as if the sky itself was a canvas. There were no words to describe it.

Only, there were some unpleasant decoration floating upon the navy coloured sea that caught her attention. Elise's breath came out in stuttering intakes of breath. She blinked to make sure that she wasn't dreaming and gasped when she realised it wasn't a fragment of her imagination.

Little white glimpses of icebergs, almost completely melted, were floating all around the sea; sparkling under the last rays of the sun. Elsie marvelled at the sight of them because she had never seen anything like this before. Of course, she had heard stories about icebergs sinking down enormous ships, or little fishermen boats, and instantly chills cascaded down her spine.

The icebergs were so small and tiny that they couldn't make any serious damage, but seeing them under and around the ship still brought her some discomfort. But Elsie also knew that the Titanic was supposed to be an unsinkable ship, and in that moment she remembered Charles words: " _Not even God could sink this ship_."

As she thought of this Elsie could feel the beginnings of her hair tingling on the back of her head, maybe from the cold, or maybe from the unexpected view - she didn't know.

Realising that she was distracted from her true intentions of coming up on deck, Elsie gave the icebergs one last look and shook her head slightly; continuing her mission.

Elsie found the Well Deck occupied only by a young Italian-speaking couple that she vaguely recognised, and a pair of elderly gentlemen smoking and arguing in a rough, low dialect that Elsie couldn't identify. There was no sign of Charles, so Elsie made her way to a staircase that led up to another deck. Bounding up the steps, using the railing to swing herself up and over the top of the stairs, Elsie landed on the deck with a light thump and looked around. A quick scan of the area revealed not a soul in sight. Momentarily baffled, Elsie frowned at the apparent empty deck, then realised that Charles must be hidden off towards the portside of the stern, behind one of the big white capstans. She set off in that direction, still feeling quite merry in spite of this unexpected detour. The decided spring in her step set her curls bouncing in time with her footfalls.

"What in God's name are you doing up here?"

Even though she had been expecting to come upon Charles suddenly, Elsie still gave a little shriek and clapped both hands over her heart. Charles was sitting on one of the benches, almost completely hidden in shadow; Elsie had gotten almost a full two meters past him before he had spoken. Fixing him with what might have been an imposing glare - had she not been simultaneously grinning impishly - Elsie spoke.

"Well Charles, you almost made it through the whole day without scaring the living daylights outta me." She wagged a finger at him. "And you're one to talk; you're up here too, aren't you?"

"Yes." Charles got up from the bench, walked right past Elsie to the railing, and flicked the remains of his cigarette overboard.

"But the way you three were carrying on down below, I thought maybe you'd somehow gone and got yourselves roaring drunk."

Elsie laughed. "Not us. We got ourselves an apple apiece, but nothing else. Just enjoying life a bit is all." She pushed her hair back off of her shoulders and shrugged. "Is that why you didn't see fit to say hello when you saw us?"

Charles snorted incredulously. "I'd just seen you not a half hour earlier, had I not?" He said, giving her a perfectly inscrutable look out of the corner of his eye. "Didn't figure I had to shout a greeting every time we cross paths."

That was Elsie's first hint that something was not quite right. At no point in the voyage so far had Charles failed to acknowledge Elsie's presence when she passed by; so instead of coming off as dismissive the way she was sure he had intended, the comment took on a decidedly defensive air instead. Narrowing her eyes, Elsie gave Charles a searching look. Sure he was a sarcastic sort of fellow, and never the sort of man she would describe as particularly exuberant, but Elsie had come to appreciate his dry sense of humour. Looking at him now, Elsie could see not a trace of the quiet amusement that usually marked Charles' demeanour. In fact, Elsie thought that he actually looked rather annoyed.

"What's the matter with you?" She demanded, folding her arms across her chest.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Charles said with a frown. "There's nothing the matter with me." He gave her another sideways look, this one just as unreadable as the first and leaned against the rails. Staring down into the water breaking against the side of the ship he added, "go to sleep Elsie; it's late."

Elsie knew a dismissal when she heard one. However she had never been the sort to give in just because someone was trying to make her do so. She stood her ground. "Don't you go ordering me around Charles, I'll go to sleep when I bloody want to."

Charles shook his head, still not looking at her.

"Fine," He said curtly, "whatever you want."

Nonplussed, Elsie pursed her lips and stared at the back of Charles' head for a moment. She recognised that tone of voice, because she had used it uncountable times herself. It was the one she used when she was upset or bothered by something and trying hard not to show it. Having such a tone directed at her now, was not only disconcerting, but also worrisome because it meant that Charles was not annoyed; it meant that something was wrong and he was trying to get her to leave him alone so he wouldn't have to talk about it.

Elsie sighed and absently brushed an imaginary hair from her forehead. She should leave him be, she decided - and go back to the Saloon, or to her cabin.

"Well," She announced, mustering up an indignation that she didn't feel, "don't suppose I much want to hang around up here with you being so snarly."

Charles glanced at her then, a look of something Elsie felt positive was guilt flashing across his face. Ignoring this with some difficulty, Elsie nodded curtly.

"Good _night_ , Charles Carson."

She marched off with her chin in the air, feeling Charles' eyes on her the whole way. Elsie got three quarters of the way down the steps to the Well Deck before she stopped and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Damn." She muttered under her breath, closing her eyes for a moment. It didn't feel right, leaving him there; it made her conscience uneasy, as though she was doing something wrong, something she would regret later. There was nothing for it; with a massive sigh, Elsie turned around and trudged back up the stairs. So much, she thought, for a worry-free day.

* * *

Cora opened her eyes to see a blurry bright light shining above her. The temperature was surprisingly different than she ever remembered the Titanic being. It felt strangely warmer, like she wasn't on the ship at all.

The first thing she did when she felt the warm air latch onto her skin was to look down at herself. Cora raised her eyebrows when she saw her bare feet on a bright, shiny floor. She also wasn't wearing a coat, nor a hat, nothing but her knee length, silky nightgown.

 _No, I can't be on the Titanic_. Cora thought silently and frowned at herself, giving one last glance at her appearance. _But how's that possible?_

This gave her an uneasy feeling. How on earth could she be so lightly dressed whilst being in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean?

Cora raised her head and peered around herself, trying hard to see if she recognised anything. She was only left with disappointment - Cora couldn't find anything familiar around, or something that would reveal where she was. It was an empty, never ending room. The white light delimited everything around her; with not a single sound to be heard.

Taking a few fearful steps, Cora noticed a shiny object standing across from her in the middle of nothing. At first she hesitated, but soon she gave in and decided to head toward it.

As soon as she reached the shiny thing, she found herself mirrored inside it. She looked hard at her other self, standing solitary; _waiting_.

"You don't have time." The other, much darker Cora said from inside the mirror. "You think you do, but you don't."

Cora stared at her clone in bewilderment. "I don't understand." She muttered, her voice raspy and dry. It coldly echoed around the empty space that surrounded her, sending chills down her spine, exploding goose pimples all across her exposed flesh.

"You will regret it." The other woman spoke up again, ignoring Cora's comment completely, like she had said nothing at all.

"You must do it." Her clone's velvety voice was now fuzzy in her ears. It became harsh and searing, like she was trying to send Cora a warning.

Alarmed, Cora stepped back from the glass, speaking up again, "What are you trying to say?"

The woman looked directly at her, her bright eyes cruelly impaling right through Cora. "Don't be so stubborn," there was a slight pause before the woman started to chuckle darkly, "or all of this will end badly."

The woman's eyes and the tone of her voice startled Cora. The warm air in the room was plummeted by a cold sweat forming on Cora's skin. She stepped back as far as she could, her lips slightly parting in response to the shocking words.

The only thing that resounded around her mind was to run for freedom; to escape this nightmare. Her legs obeyed and she made ground towards the empty space in front of her...but there was absolutely nothing, just the vivid light that made her vision weaker by the second.

The woman's icy laugh still followed her - it got louder with every new step Cora took forward, it was as though she was not running away but constantly running towards what she wanted, needed to get away from.

She couldn't escape.

There was just no possible way to flee from her other self, for that woman was her, indeed. Maybe some darker, colder version of Cora hidden in some crevice that lay ignored, but it was still her.

The cold sweat dampened Cora's braided hair as she continued to run as fast as she could, but gradually with each step she became slower and slower.

" _Robert!_ " Cora screamed loudly, the words escaped hurriedly from her throat. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision when the light in front of her became brighter; it had become so intense now, that it hurt to look at it.

She brought her hand up in front of her eyes, protecting them from the strong white rays, and crying out Robert's name once again.

But he didn't answer back, nobody answered. By now even the laughter had stopped. There was, once again, nothing around her - only silence.

Cora placed both of her hands over her face now, covering her eyes. "Please," She pleaded through sobs, "leave me alone. You're just in my head. You're not real."

After a moment of standing like that and comforting herself with quiet sobs, Cora finally removed her hands, revealing her reddish face damped in tears.

The bright light started to fade away, like nothing had even been there, and now Cora found herself on the Titanic's first class deck - and like before there was nothing, not an ounce of life around. Only darkness. And she was surrounded by it.

She couldn't hear the usual sound of waves hitting the ship under her, or laugher of the people who sat in the dining saloon. There weren't even the usual few who would come out for the occasional late night cigar.

Nothing.

Nobody.

Just her.

All alone.

Or so she thought, until she heard a male voice behind her, calling her.

" _Wait_ _!_ "

She stopped short but didn't turn towards the source of the voice, not yet.

"… What?" She muttered in fear. Her eyes widened as she slowly turned around and gazed at a figure standing in the dark right in front of her; and she waited, waited for him to say something, anything.

To say that she was safe. To say that this was all a dream, an unpleasant one. To say that the woman in the mirror was lying. To finally say it was a test of some sort.

But the figure did not one of those things, only stepped out of the dark, revealing his face.

" _Patrick?_ " Cora questioned, relieved beyond measure. "Thank God you're here."

He said nothing in response, merely returned her gaze.

Cora felt a weirdness between them; she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, suddenly noticing his dishevelled appearance. Her mind was telling her that it was Patrick - but her gut instinct was telling her something more sinister. He appeared differently; something wrong to look at with the eye - a certain aura vibrating around him, it was bitter, akin to the cold waves beneath them. His usually formal hair was now all messy, with a few stray hairs curiously wandering onto his forehead. His once warm green eyes were shadowed by a pair of dark, black holes. Patrick's usual charmed smile was nowhere to be found, but rather a crooked rictus rested uncomfortably on his face.

Patrick scoffed. "No words of goodbye to your _friend_? Your rival? Enemy? Hell, I'm practically your damn family."

" _Goodbye?_ " Cora repeated after him, narrowing her eyebrows. "But I'm not going anywhere?"

The corners of his mouth pulled up into a wicked grin while he coldly stared at her. "Oh, you are." Patrick spoke low, and slowly, it was as if he thought she couldn't hear him.

Patrick was silent for a moment and it was this odd behaviour of his that caught Cora's attention.

"Why is everything so wrong? It's so... different, I don't understand." She began to question.

"Shh... everything's fine, Cora." Patrick replied easily; flashing her a lazy half smile.

It hadn't felt right, nothing felt right - his voice was much deeper; the edges of his words tilted with something dark. The words sounded too serious for someone like Patrick, they echoed, becoming small whispers, so tangled with one another that they could barely be understood.

They stared at each other for a moment, though it felt like an age had fallen. His weirdly coloured eyes made her feel uneasy and uncomfortable, as if he could see everything inside of her. Shortly afterwards, he removed his firm gaze from her face and drooped his wandering eyes all over her body. Then, finally, Patrick's eyes stopped; staring down at her middle section.

Her eyes instantly opened wide and she shifted her hands forward, placing her palms protectively over her abdomen, not daring to say a thing.

Patrick didn't raise his gaze to look at her, but continued staring at her hands. "It has become much too dangerous for you to carry what is inside of you. You'll be endangering me..." There was a pause before he decided to continue, "...and everyone." He whispered, his voice barely making any sound at all.

"You know?" Cora tried hard not to falter. She tried to sound as brave as she could, but still Patrick's words held no mercy.

"You know very well what could happen. That's why you didn't want to tell anyone in the first place. That's why you were terrified. You were aware of the consequences, but still you carried on and did nothing at all." Patrick moved into her line of vision, making steady steps toward her. "So now I will have to take care of it."

Cora took a step back until she found herself standing next to the railing. She had nowhere to go now, nowhere to escape. It was the end of the road. She was trapped.

Patrick reached her and grabbed her right hand, squeezing it angrily. Cora tried to free herself from his cold grip, but he held her hand with extreme force.

"I, as Mary's fiancé and rightful heir of Downton, cannot allow you to ruin everything." Patrick's voice got colder and colder as he spoke. "With your child being a potential heir everything will be thrown upside down - and you know it." His words came out dryly and his nails started to dig into her flesh, "I can't let that happen."

Cora felt the tears well up inside her crystal eyes at his words. "What? No. No! You wouldn't do this to me..." Her sobs cut off her words. Her upper body shook with the force of them as she tried to move away from him. Cora's trust in Patrick was vanishing rapidly.

Cora tried to move her arms again, but she felt nothing. She couldn't move her body. It felt like she was paralysed. Cora needed to move, to save her life, to escape this hell. She tried to move her legs one more time, but there was no feeling there.

"Let me go!" Cora fearfully screamed into Patrick's face, which was now only centimetres away from hers, his black eyes staring right back into her own; his expression unreadable.

"Do you really want to destroy your own family now, when it's all settled?" He shook her body and tightened his grip until Cora yelped out in pain. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stop the tears, but they continued flowing. Cora tried to raise her arms again, to protect herself and her baby, but they stayed right where they were.

"Please... stop." She muttered slowly and opened her eyes with the small hope that he would have disappeared from her view. Suddenly, the scent of blood wafted up towards her nose and she became dizzy. Cora's head whirled as she heard Patrick's voice.

"Let's just get things back to the way they used to be again, shall we? To when everything was idyllic."

Cora lazily shifted her head down, not listening to his words. She was trying to find the source of the weird scent that had reached her nostrils. She bent her head further down, looking at the deck floor. There was red liquid all around them, both of their feet were soaked in blood.

Her face became afflicted with horror, with no understanding of where all this blood had come from. For the first time in a while, her sobs stopped and a new sound came out. It was a choking sound that Cora wasn't aware she could even make. She was fairly sure it was a howl of pain and sadness.

Cora gasped for air again and attempted to speak. Thankfully, her voice made it through this time, "Please, don't kill us."

"I'm sorry, Cora." Patrick whispered, his unusual voice coming out again.

He loosened his grip from around her, his fist eventually uncoiling from her tiny arm. Cora immediately looked down at it. Her arm held a pale, wrinkled look, almost as though she had stayed in the bath for too long. She noted an odd swirling pattern adorning each of her fingertips, travelling all up her arms. She also noticed growing droplets of blood from where Patrick's nails had left wounds.

She wrenched her eyes away and flung her arms to her sides. She then settled her gaze to the ground between the two, and worked on steadying her breathing.

Patrick didn't back away from her completely, nor did he let her get away. Through her disappointment and growing despair, Patrick's hands once again moved and travelled up; stopping and snaking around her neck. As his hands slid around Cora's throat her eyes widened in surprise. Instantly, she scrambled up her weak arms and entwined her hands around Patrick's strong ones.

Patrick tightened his grip as Cora started to scrabble to get a hold of any leverage she could to try and pry his large, muscular hands from her throat. He could feel her pulse drumming as if she was a frightened rabbit, and the thrill felt good. With her killed, all his troubles would disappear. He laughed maniacally aloud as she choked and sputtered.

He tightened his grip again, clenching harder and harder. She tried to talk, but no voice came out of her mouth. She felt the air leaving her body and she couldn't breathe. Her heart pounded like crazy inside of her chest; still clinging to that small hope that Patrick would let her go. She rose onto her toes with the last speck of energy she had within her body.

The pain became unimaginable, nothing she had ever felt matched up to this sensation and feeling. She tried to shake her head at him. Nothing he could say or do would ever make up for this. Ever.

Finally, she heard the sound that had been missing for all of this time, it came crashing all around her - the waves beneath them started to rise furiously; changing like there was a storm coming, but she couldn't see any sign of it. The waves peaked and viciously bumped against the steel of the ship, the sound sharp as it reached her ears. The sea continued to vigorously change behind her back.

Patrick's hands felt like ice as they closed now into a vice-like-grip around Cora's neck. The crazed look in his eyes terrified her; his hand closing around tighter and tighter, until finally Cora's breathing was stopped.

Cora started to fight back instinctively, terrified about what was on the other side. She wasn't ready for this. She couldn't go. Not yet. This time she dug her nails into his skin, but his grip remained unyielding. Her lungs began to burn from lack of air and Cora reached for his face, her nails connecting with his flesh.

There was no escape, there was no way out. She had to get away, she had to. For her and her baby's sake. As each second passed slowly, the panic grew as Cora tried to force his hands away. She had to breathe. The ache in her chest grew worse by the moment as she writhed under his grasp.

Perhaps, with some miracle, she could have tried to push him away from her - if he had not started to tip her over the railing. With one hand Cora continued to try and remove his powerful grip from her throat, and with the other she clenched the metal railing.

The icy waves below became harsher with each second; she could feel small drops of water swoosh against her flesh as the waves toppled against the ship's side, and she was terrified.

Patrick opened his mouth ready to speak again. "As your own consciousness said earlier; all of this would end up badly."

Cora began to see dark spots across her vision as she became more and more frantic. His blood splashed on her face as she felt herself growing weaker.

 _Why is he doing this, what have I done?_ Cora thought as she felt tears, from either frustration or pure terror, fill the pool of her eyes and spill out onto her cheeks.

Cora felt her arms go limp, lungs burning ever so painfully as darkness overcame her sight. It was over. Patrick had betrayed her in the worst way possible. She would never be able to forgive him for this.

Cora had been deprived of oxygen for several long, excruciating minutes before her eyelids slowly closed over her bright eyes, pushing all the tears away. Slowly the world started to spin, to fade, and each sound grew dull. A world of black rushed over her, pulled her down, and her body went limp.

Seconds later she knew no more.

Patrick didn't release his python like grip immediately though, for he knew she was merely unconscious, not dead. Once he felt her heartbeat sputter to a halt, he let go of her neck. Dead, Cora fell onto the cold deck floor. The blood lying there immediately soaked her nightgown.

Patrick looked at her. Her blue skin shone brightly, while the purple bruise around her neck became strongly visible. He drew in a deep breath to calm himself before he had to figure out how to dispose of the body.

He picked her lifeless corpse up, his arms now drenched in the crimson liquid too. She looked so peaceful and he whispered into her ear as he held her over the railing.

"It didn't have to end this way." With these words, he let her fall into the darkness beneath.

The unmerciful sea was waiting to swallow her, to leave no evidence that she had ever walked this earth.

Patrick waited until she crashed into the sea, but Cora could still understand what was going on around her, though she couldn't move or see. She heard the sound of someone whispering, but it was much too low for her to understand. She really didn't care anymore. She felt empty. She wished she could look up and somehow wake up, but she physically couldn't.

Cora heard the sound of a door opening, but it didn't make any sense. She was drifting below in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and she was sure that there weren't any doors there to be found.

" _Cora._ " A familiar male voice spoke as if he were next to her head, but she was sure that there was no one there with her. She was surrounded by deep darkness and she expected to wither there until she was nothing but the sea's little secret. She tried to think, but she felt her mind go blank. Cora couldn't move nor think.

It was really over.

" _Cora!_ " Someone yelled again, right in her ear.

But it was too late.


	15. Tears Shining Like Stars

**A/N:** _I could go on and on about this chapter, but I'd give all the fun away then, so I won't say anything except that this was way fun to write and that I'm pretty sure it's the emotional turning-point of the story. Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy yourselves._

 _Many thanks again to everyone who has taken the time to review! I never would have believed it if I hadn't experience it myself, but feedback actually do help speed up the writing._

 _And thank you_ **Courtland** _for being such a wonderful beta!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER XV**

 _ **Tears Shining Like Stars**_

 _"Winter's snow and ice,_

 _Their glistening beauty may look nice;_

 _But don't fall into their lies._

 _Though the chill makes you feel alive,_

 _Frozen always comes with a price."_

 **14, April 1912;**

When she was near enough to the top of the staircase that she could peek over the top step, Elsie saw that Charles was right where she had left him, leaning against the railings with his back to her. Elsie finished her climb, stepped out onto the deck, then immediately changed her mind and backtracked into the shadows. She idled there for a minute, torn between wanting to find out what was the matter, and wanting to respect Charles' clear wish to be left alone. But then Elsie thought of all the times she had driven off her sister, or her mother, or a friend; when really what she had wanted the most was for one of them to realise that something was wrong and to force her to talk about it.

Elsie groaned and raked one hand through her hair. "Oh Elsie, what the hell are you doing?" She grumbled in the direction of her boots.

Taking a deep breath, she started across the deck a second time. Whether Elsie wanted to admit it or not was the fact that she had become extremely fond of Charles, and she didn't want to walk away when there was a chance he might need her. After all, roles reversed, she had no doubt that he would be there for her.

If Charles saw or heard her coming, he made no reaction until Elsie came up beside him and rested her elbows on the railing. He glanced at her slantways and made a small exasperated noise but said nothing. Elsie, following his lead, propped her chin on her hands and also remained silent, staring out into the black expanse of ocean.

After a moment or two Charles said. "I thought you had decided to go to bed?"

Elsie shrugged. "Changed my mind." She removed her chin from her hands and crossed her arms over the top of the railing. "Besides, I didn't want your death on my conscience if you decided to hurl yourself overboard while I was sleeping."

Charles shot her such a withering look that Elsie regretted the comment immediately.

"Oh yes?" He said with an incredulous raise of one eyebrow, "is that why you think I'm up here?"

"Why not?" Elsie shot back in challenge, "you certainly look miserable enough, and it's not as though you have given me any other explanation, have you?"

Charles threw both hands into the air in exasperation and took a few steps away from her.

Turning back he said. "Elsie, you are a damned infuriating woman, you know that?"

"I've been told once or twice," Elsie deadpanned, keeping her face utterly neutral.

"Yes, I suppose you have!" Charles snapped. He looked as though he wanted to say something else but instead made a low, frustrated noise in the back of his throat and stalked off along the deck.

Undeterred, Elsie hurried after him. "Look Charles, I've known you for a very long time, but I figured out that you're not a bit like you were at Downton - you're oddly much better. I've got a good enough idea of what you're normally like, and this isn't it." Elsie drew up even at his side, slightly winded, and then hopped in front of him, blocking his path.

"But I know you well enough to sense that you've not been acting like yourself since I got here."

Charles stopped and glared at her. However, Elsie could see plainly that there wasn't really any heart behind the glare.

"What is it, exactly, that you want me to say?" He continued.

"Well, I really wouldn't know, would I?" Elsie replied, putting her hands on her hips and returning the miffed expression tenfold. "But you could start by telling me what the hell's the matter with you."

"As I've said," Charles ground out through clenched teeth, "there's nothing the matter with me."

"And as I've said," Elsie returned, tossing her head indignantly, "I don't believe you!"

Charles rolled his eyes. "Well, that's really not my problem, is it?"

He pushed past her and headed back to the railing. Elsie watched him lean against it and run one hand over his eyes wearily. She frowned and rubbed the back of her neck, trying to get some sense of what was going on. After a moment's hesitation, she approached him again.

"I don't understand it, Charles," Elsie said warily, attempting to keep her voice calm; despite her concern and aggravation, "you seemed fine earlier…"

"God Elsie, don't you ever give up?" Charles growled, raising his eyes to the starry midnight sky.

"Sure you weren't up and fooling around like Jack, but you never do that, and you were laughing and joking with me…" Elsie went on, ignoring him completely.

Charles closed his eyes and pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, "Elsie…"

"And the next thing I know you're skulking about up here acting like someone died." Elsie finished. "What the hell happened?"

"Nothing happened." Charles said, not opening his eyes.

Elsie snorted in disbelief. "Something must have!" She exclaimed, "Else why are you…"

She never got to finish her question because Charles suddenly whirled on her and half-shouted. "For the love of God Elsie, do you never stop? Never have I seen the like of you for saying whatever pops into your head whenever you please, you damn ridiculous woman!"

Elsie's jaw snapped shut and she took a step backwards, completely caught off guard by the outburst. Charles, apparently, was not done berating her because he continued, still in an almost-shout.

"What do you gain from getting folks all worked up over nothing? Over some silly daydream?" Charles continued.

The question came so out of left field that Elsie could hardly even register what he had asked. Completely thrown, she gaped at him momentarily before finally managing to spit out, "What on earth are you talking about?"

"You know perfectly well what." Charles replied hurriedly.

"No, I really don't think I do," Elsie said, feeling no less wrong-footed but distinctly more annoyed. She was not used to being so thoroughly dumbfounded by a conversation and she didn't care for the feeling in the slightest, "Talk plainly for God's sake!"

"This afternoon down in the dining hall, and then all evening after that, and a few days before that," Charles said, his voice down several notches in volume, but no less heated, "you're getting the whole of third class worked into some frenzy over what might be waiting for them in America. Getting everyone's hopes up, actually believing that the things they dream could come true."

"Christ almighty," Elsie said, her mind still reeling from the sudden turn in conversation. She shook her head and raised one hand to adjust her hat, only to realise half-way that she had forgotten to put her hat on. She settled for fussing with one of her hair combs instead.

"Is that what's got you so worked up, Charles?" She demanded. "That I dared to try and get some people excited about where they're going? It's going to be their new life, Charles, perhaps it's too late for us, but they still have hope. And I know that you don't like America; you're a stubborn Englishmen, after all. "

Charles didn't reply, just gave her a long look before turning and walking a little ways away. He stopped after a few feet and leaned against a capstan, his back to her. Elsie, thoroughly disgruntled, squeezed her eyes shut, counted to five and then followed him.

"Look, remember what you said when we were all up here earlier, about people being worried?" Elsie said to Charles' back, her arms crossed securely over her chest; he had her on the defensive and she hated that.

"Well, I thought, what if you were right? What if everyone felt more like they were heading to an executioner, instead of what should be a new start for all of them? And I figured maybe I could help." Charles turned to look at her then, his face unreadable. Elsie pulled herself up taller and lifted her chin. "So forgive me Charles Carson, for thinking that maybe folks needed something to lift their spirits. I didn't hear you complaining when you were sitting right there with all of us."

Charles stared at her without saying anything for a long time. Mildly unnerved, Elsie resisted the urge to speak or shift out from under his gaze. Instead she stared back at him with every ounce of defiance she could muster, arms still crossed, chin still raised stubbornly. After what seemed like an age, Charles shook his head.

"Honest to God Elsie, I don't know what to make of you." He said, leaning back against the white steel of the capstan; using one hand to fuss absently with the peak of his cap.

Elsie flashed him a wry half smile and relaxed her posture just slightly.

"You're just full of compliments tonight, aren't you?" She said, daring to take a few steps closer.

"I mean it," Charles continued, ignoring her comment, "you're like no one I've ever met. I can't decide if you're putting it on, or if this is actually the way you are." He stopped, his mind wandering in some private thought of his.

Elsie frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"You're also much different than you were at Downton. I think that this new environment around us has changed us a bit. It's odd, but it's somehow for the better." Charles tossed his hands in the air again and paced agitatedly from Elsie's left to her right, then back again.

"You!" He exclaimed. "Parading around this ship like you own the damn thing, going on about how grand America is going to be, how wonderful your precious New World is - like you actually believe it to be true! As though dreams like that can actually exist for people like us."

"But I do believe it," Elsie said, her spine stiffening. "People like us? You speak for yourself, _Charles Carson_ , because I believe every word I said and I don't know why I shouldn't either."

"Because you're smarter than that!" Charles replied with an unmistakable note of disbelief in his voice. He looked as though he had liked to have given her a good shake.

"And say what you like, but your story's not so different from mine. Poor English family with children - not half enough money to care for them properly. Father and mother working themselves half-dead when there's hardly any work at all. How old were you when you had to stop your lessons and start working, Elsie? Ten? Eleven?"

Elsie dropped her gaze to her hands, and knotted her fingers together. "Eleven." She answered quietly, almost reluctantly.

"You see?" Charles slapped the top of the railing, making her jump, "and yet, you'll stand here and tell me that you honestly believe that these people are going to land in America and miraculously become something other than poor, little English steerage rats that every fine and fancy person on this ship thinks them to be." He paused, looking away. "We fought to become who we are now, Elsie. We worked so hard to arrive at the top. We really did, and they will have to, too."

A white-hot ribbon of anger uncoiled in Elsie's chest, and the anxious knot of her hands unravelled and reformed as twin fists at her sides.

"Don't you tell me what their future is going to be like," She spat, feeling her face blaze as though someone had set a flame to her skin. "It's not your place to say what they will or will not be."

Charles at least had the common sense to look somewhat chastised. He took a step back as though afraid she might burn him, the hard angry look on his face faltering.

"You make no sense; you tell me that it's not my place to say what they will or won't be, and yet you can? You can tell me what their future is going to be like, like your words set it in stone. You can tell them that their dreams are all going to come true? How can you keep thinking like that when you know damn well most of the world thinks you're wrong?" He demanded.

Elsie, looking no less furious, pounded one fist against the top of the railing, "Why is it so hard to accept that I can?"

"Because I stopped believing that anything can get better decades ago and by all account you should have too!" Charles shot back, his face and eyes full of a hard, stone-cold anger that was so uncharacteristic of him that Elsie felt her own anger falter, replaced by something closer to worry. Then, without warning, something seemed to shift in Charles' gaze and the look on his face changed so dramatically that Elsie felt her vague concern swell into outright alarm. It was like watching someone let the air out of a tire. Elsie took a step towards him, but Charles held out a hand to ward her off.

Charles sighed and rubbed his eyes, looking suddenly exhausted.

"Elsie, it's been so long since I let hope come into my life again, I don't even know if I can do it anymore. I used to, I used to imagine what might happen if I just got the right chance." He glanced at her fleetingly, as though unsure of how she would take this unexpected confession.

"But I learned the hard way that that sort of thinking would only make you fall harder when it didn't happen. There's no point believing in fairy tales, Elsie; they don't come true."

Elsie had no idea what to say. She ran both hands through her hair, pulling loose a number of curls that sprang free and immediately fell into her eyes. She made a small helpless gesture, "Charles…" He waved her quiet, and for a long while they simply stood there staring at each other.

Finally, Charles said. "And the damndest thing is, I can tell you all this, and yet, you'll go on ahead still believing like it makes even a shred of sense." He gave her a look of equal parts frustrated and bewildered. "How did you get like that, Elsie? What's made you change on the Titanic? When you lived the kind of life most of these people would die for, how in God's name do you keep on looking at things the way you do?"

Closing her coloured eyes, Elsie took a deep breath and held it, crossing her arms over her chest. "I believe because I think that things can get better," Elsie said finally. "Maybe not for us, but there's a chance for other people. When I was younger no one ever told me to hope and believe that there is something better - that I can accomplish something greater."

Charles' face in the shadows was inscrutable, so Elsie took another steadying breath and continued.

"If I can't believe that things can get better, then I might as well crawl into a corner and die - because if I can't believe, what is the point? What is the point of doing anything else?" There was a shudder in her voice now, and Elsie could feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, but she pushed her shoulders back defiantly and refused to cry. The look on her face was fierce.

"I'm not stupid, Charles. I know it's gonna be hard, for them and for us. Everything will be new. It's gonna be damned hard. But we're all used to that, hard is what our whole damn lives has been. I don't expect them to step off the ship and have everything change, but one day it will change. It has to."

Elsie glared up at Charles, her hands fisted again, her nails digging into her palms hard enough to hurt. Charles was looking at her as though he had never seen her angry before. She wanted to confess everything, to confess her feelings. She, too, had to believe in hope; that the future held something more beautiful. She had to. For her heart's sake.

 _I refuse to accept that this is all we will ever be - just damn friends_ , Elsie continued thinking inside her head, not finding enough courage to say it out loud. _We can't be this the rest of our lives Charles, I won't believe it, I just won't._

"And if believing makes me a fool, then fine, fine, I'm a fool." Elsie found her voice again, the wobble in it was now more pronounced.

"Oh Elsie," Charles said quietly; the tone of his voice was gentler than it had been all night. "You're not a fool." He sighed heavily and shook his head, "You're anything but."

Just like that, Elsie felt all the fight go out of her. She stared at her hands where her nails had left angry red half-moons imprinted in her flesh.

"Charles," she reached out and gently touched his hand, her fingers tips inexplicably cold in contrast to the warmth of his skin. "I know… I know life hasn't been very fair to either of us. But there's no reason not to have hope for a beautiful future ahead of us. You know I believe it." She looked up at him, hesitated and then added. "And so do you. Else you wouldn't have hung around so long tonight. You would have just walked away."

Charles stared at her for a minute, then suddenly smiled – a wry half grin – and rolled his eyes.

"You do beat all, Elsie Hughes," He informed her.

"Right," Elsie replied with a little laugh, "So you have said."

* * *

 _A lion._

And there was a giraffe. Or was it a coconut tree?

That one was a kitten, pawing at the air.

The sky above the Titanic was peaceful, a dark canvas for a billion shinning stars that adored it. There were so many stars in the sky tonight, all mismatched and scattered throughout the dark, never-ending vastness of space above the earth. Some connected quite easily and formed recognisable shapes, but others were trickier, like that giraffe… or was it a tree?

Robert sighed in frustration. _Giraffe, it is definitely a giraffe._ He whispered to himself, looking through the window. It was one of those nights that he could have sworn he had been attacked with a sudden rush of insomnia.

Robert stirred in bed as he tried to get some sleep. He tilted his head and looked across the room. An enormous clock filled the room with its _tick tock_ noises over and over again. The figure showed two after midnight and Robert sighed once again at the sight.

The cool pillow touching his head made him feel relaxed and calm, but Robert still wasn't falling asleep. The soft silky sheets gently rubbed against his skin as Robert tried to move his hand that was underneath his head for the third time that night.

He sighed again. This was hopeless. Robert opened his restless eyes and saw silver moonlight spreading across their bedroom. The light was bright, which kind of bothered him, it was too distracting, and Robert was unable to close his eyes and drift off to a dream-filled sleep. It was starting to get really annoying.

Even with his eyes squeezed tight, Robert could still see the heavy light coming from the full moon through his eyelids. It was no use. No matter how many times Robert closed his eyes, how many pillows he pressed desperately over his head, how many damn sheep he counted; sleep still wouldn't come. The moonlight had taken on a life of its own and its ray of fingers would give Robert no rest.

The one thing that may be able to help cure his current state was to perhaps move onto his other side where the moonlight would have no access to his eyes.

He wanted to do so, until Robert turned his gaze back to his sleeping wife in his arms; Cora never failed to hold his attention. The bed sheets were twisted around their bodies from all of Cora's tossing and turning.

She was breathing steadily, little warm puffs of breath coming out of her mouth regularly and blowing over to land on his cheeks. Cora's warmth and calmness was just one of the many things he adored about her. She had her arms wrapped securely around Robert, and she snuggled up against his chest. One of Robert's arms, the one that was lying under his head a moment earlier, found its way around Cora's waist and with his other hand Robert was gently caressing her scalp.

Robert admired her beauty that sleepless night. His wife's face was covered with silver moonlight, while her eyelids remained closed. Her full cherry lips were slightly parted and her hair shone under the bright light. It seemed that the moon didn't bother her at all. It didn't surprise him though, after he had witnessed how tired she was - while they were having fun in the General Room after a few round of cards, and a few slow dances, Cora had struggled to keep her eyes open.

After Cora had finished talking in her sleep, saying things like "Robert, kiss me," and "Dinner's almost ready, Mary," and "Rosamund, no more shopping", her body had relaxed comfortably into his and she slept peacefully.

Robert then glanced back out of the slightly opened window and looked to the star-littered sky again. It was chilly tonight, Robert thought about getting up and closing it... but no, he didn't want to disturb his Cora.

Robert laid with his love contently for a few more silent moments before Cora started twitching and fidgeting. He watched with worry as her hand began gripping and fisting the blanket, little noises emitting from her mouth, and her body squirming in the sheets. Her nose was scrunched and her eyebrows were furrowed in a way that obviously indicated peaceful rest now evaded her.

 _Oh, no._ He silently thought.

She was having a nightmare.

Cora was probably having nightmares because of all the added stress she had been dealing with lately. Though, Robert couldn't understand what could have possibly caused it. She had been everything but stressed lately, or so he had thought.

Whatever the cause was, Robert still wished he could eradicate all things stressful from her life, permanently, and let her sleep worry-free from now on. But he couldn't, and he felt so wretched because of that. A husband was supposed to protect their loved one, not bring the problems directly to her, time and time again.

She wriggled in the blankets some more, a soft whimper escaping her lips. Robert could clearly see now growing drops of sweat forming on Cora's forehead. The cold drops adored her face and they glistened under the bright moonlight. That was it, he was done for. Once Robert heard that little sound, he had to wake her up immediately. There was no way he was just going to lay there while Cora suffered and cried out in her dreams. Robert was far too weak for that.

"Cora." Robert lowered his lips down to her ear and whispered softly. "Cora… Cora, love, wake up. Wake up sweetheart." Robert steadily continued when he saw that his words weren't getting through to her. She continued tossing her head from one side to another, muttering some words that could barely be understood.

"Darling!" Robert frantically whispered into her ear, but Cora couldn't find the strength to open her eyes. She froze when she felt someone's arms around her, but slightly relaxed once she realised they belonged to Robert.

"Cora!" Robert raised his tone a bit, and Cora's scream accompanied his voice as she was finally pulled from the nightmare; she grabbed a hold of one of Robert's cold arms that had been trying to wake her. Sweat was dripping off her forehead now.

Her blue eyes shot open. She hysterically looked around the room, trying hard to see where she was. She gasped once again, air ripping through her lungs, reality came back to her. Her fearful panting concerned Robert. It sounded like she had been deprived of breath for quite some time.

Eventually, after some more of Robert's comforting words and whispers, Cora relaxed a bit, but she was still clearly disoriented and drained from the nightmare. Although, the pain hadn't lessoned in the slightest.

Robert's face hovered above hers, one of his hands rested limply on her waist while the other caressed her sweaty face.

"Cora, darling." He said easily, making careful hand gestures, seeing that she was having a hard time getting used to reality.

"You were having a nightmare." Robert explained miserably, while looking at her with concern flashing from his eyes.

Cora carefully listened to him, her eyes open wide in fear, and she was trying hard to regulate her breathing. She was still gripping his arm, trying to understand that it had only been a dreadful dream.

Relief came once she discovered she was in her own room, she laid back and closed her eyes, still reeling from the thoughts that were swirling around in her head.

"Robert?" Cora whimpered quietly, tears beginning to pool in her sapphire eyes; they filled quickly with salty tears as she leaned against Robert, holding to him like a life preserver. She promptly squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the familiar sting of tears gradually building more and more behind her lids and quickly sneaking through. Cora began to sob uncontrollably. The sobs shook her whole body; even though she knew it had been a dream, the pain was still there.

It had felt so real, so vivid, Cora sobbed as she tried to get rid of the awful memory the dream had been.

 _Ah, those tears_. Robert thought as he painfully looked at his crying wife next to him.

He pulled her closer and rubbed her back up and down, doing his best to comfort her. It wasn't very usual for her to wake up and just start crying out of nowhere, she hadn't had such tense nightmare in years.

"Shh, Cora, it was just a dream. I'm here. I'm right here." He whispered, continuing with his sweet caresses.

Cora grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and buried her head onto his chest as she cried.

"Shh... it's alright." Robert's soft voice soothed. Her shoulders continued to shake lightly with her hushed sobs as she continued to bury her wet face as much as she could into Robert's shirt. Her tears dropped, staining silver trails of despair onto his shirt. Robert instantly wrapped his arms tighter around her, seeing how distressed she was.

"It was only a dream, everything's alright, my love." He continued.

And she was grateful for that. She looked down to see if his words were true, if it really was only just a silly nightmare. She slipped her hand under the covers and placed it against her abdomen. Cora gasped as she felt the slight swell that was still there - no blood, not anything that could have hurt them.

Cora's tears now were filled with joy at her revelation. She wasn't dead. Her baby wasn't dead. Patrick hadn't killed them.

 _It was only a dream, a silly, silly dream._

She let out a sigh of slight relief; though she was still shaken by her unpleasant nightmare. Cora's arm moved up to Robert's neck as she held herself as close to him as possible, with her other hand resting on her growing stomach between them.

Robert sat still for a moment before tightening his arms around her even more, being especially fragile with her.

"It felt _so_ real, Robert." Cora murmured, finally finding her voice. Crying, she lifted up her face only to look into his dark blue eyes.

"I know, I know darling." Robert said as he reached up and cupped her face in his strong hands. He wiped away the tears that slid down her rosy cheeks with his thumb. His gaze fell down to her hand that laid between them, clenching slightly at her midsection.

"Are you in pain?" He whispered, frowning at her movements.

When she realised what she had unconsciously done, her hand instantly moved away while he continued to stare at her in question.

 _Am I in pain?_ She repeated his words inside her mind, eyes filling with bitter tears. Stabbing flashes of her nightmare started to slowly flow inside her head. Robert was quiet as she sobbed inside his arms reluctantly. He understood she needed some time.

She cried because she thought she had lost her child. That she was dead along with it. She cried because she realised that she had already fallen in love with it with all her heart. She wept because Patrick had betrayed her in the worst way imaginable. Cora understood it was only a dream, but still her mind felt some anger towards him.

She opened her mouth to speak, but just like in her dream, no sound came out. But now, she had no idea what to say. She looked down to her abdomen again, she couldn't resist, feeling overwhelmingly happy that her baby was safe and sound in her womb. When she looked back up, Robert was staring at it in confusion.

And Cora almost told him. She almost told him everything, about why she was so stressed and how it had happened. That she was carrying the child that could change quite a few destinies. That she was carrying _their_ child and she was terrified, and lost, and alone, and that the only thing that kept her from screaming or curling up into a ball and crying was the belief that somehow it would all end up good - and no one would be harmed because of it. Only at the last second did Cora catch herself, realising how bad a mistake it would be to tell Robert all of this presently. With an effort she swallowed her secret again, feeling the unspoken words scald her throat like bile.

Closing her eyes, Cora took a deep breath and held it, vaguely aware of the fact that her hands had unconsciously linked themselves into a protective barrier across her abdomen. Flexing her fingers, trying to relax, Cora let out the air she had been holding and opened her eyes. She couldn't tell Robert everything, not yet, but that didn't mean she couldn't still tell him some of her fears.

Cora wasn't even sure how she was bearing all of this - the thrashing had exhausted her and suddenly her body gave in as she began to sob against him once more. Robert was silent for a long time. Cora's emotional well-being was now worrying him. She shuddered, causing Robert to pull their blanket closer around her. When he spoke again, it was minutes later.

"Cora, please talk to me." Robert pleaded, the worry swirling in his eyes was unmistakable.

"This nightmare has clearly drained you. Tell me, what put you into this state?" He continued to steadily move his hand up and down her back, trying to lessen her stress.

"Robert," She said again, her voice breaking. Seeing that she still needed a moment Robert pulled her closer once again, letting her enjoy his closeness and security.

"I'm here, you're alright now. Shh, calm down." He continued, and steadily rubbed her back; occasionally he planted tender kisses on top of her head. A few short minutes later, she seemed to have relaxed considerably.

Lifting her head up to meet his worried gaze she whispered. "It was a bad one, a really bad one."

Her words touched his heart. How he wished to endure the dreams that frightened her so, over and over, if only to keep her from having a single one.

"I know, Cora, I know. Do you want to talk to me about it?" Robert asked.

Cora hesitated for a moment and drew her bottom lip into to her mouth to chew on while she deliberated. Cora wanted to answer his question, though not exactly truthfully.

She took a deep breath and began to recollect her most recent nightmare.

"I dreamt about some woman who looked exactly like me, but she was talking nonsense. I couldn't understand a thing. I just remember that it made me uncomfortable." She explained to him, not quite meeting his gaze. "Then I found myself on the Titanic's deck, and then there was _Patrick_." Her voice broke audibly on the word 'Patrick', "I just remember him being very rude and the last thing I remember is that I fell over the railing." She was interrupted as her tears overcame her again. One of her palms travelled up and stopped at her neck, recalling Patrick's python like grip.

Robert hushed her and tucked her head under his chin, rocking them both back and forth as best as he could; lying down while still tangled in the blanket. Robert continued to rock her like a child, kissing her tears away, sometimes singing or whispering his love to her. Cora's cries would sometimes wane, but they always came back full force.

"I'm sorry, I'm just having a hard time controlling my emotions." She sighed, resting against him once more. "It's nothing for you to worry about. They're just stupid nightmares." Cora said through her sobs, wiping away the tears from her wet cheeks.

Robert heavily sighed before replying. "How can I not worry about you? Whatever you've dreamt about has caused you pain - and whatever hurts you, hurts me too. It's not like you've been acting quite yourself lately." He added, caressing her tangled caramel curls.

She listened to his words carefully and comforted herself in the warmth of his body. Having him close, listening to his heartbeat and steady breathing soothed her immediately.

Robert heard her heavy breaths and within a second decided to climb from the bed to get her some water. He began to slowly slip away when Cora's fearful voice showed up again.

"No!" She said, reaching out frantically to grab his arm. "Stay, please. Don't go anywhere."

Robert looked at her warily for a second before moving back over to the bed with a look of pure shock on his face and embraced her tightly. She moved over as he climbed in beside her, and wrapped her arms around him.

Eventually, Cora was able to calm down and stopped crying. Robert had stayed close to her throughout her meltdown, though he was probably too shocked to move. Robert continued to caress her as she got her breathing back to a normal rhythm.

"You should try to sleep, Cora." He whispered into her ear. "It'll be dawn in a few hours." Robert looked into her tired, bloodshot eyes and they widened.

"I don't want the nightmare to come back." Cora murmured.

"It won't." Robert assured and then leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Don't worry, love, it was just a dream. Just a dream, that's all. And it won't come back." He reassured her again, but knowing that she would have an objection to his statement, Robert corrected himself. "And I'll be by your side the whole time. Nothing will happen darling."

Robert gently laid her down and tucked her in. Then he carefully laid down next to her, feeling her legs entwining with his under the covers. She rested her head next to his chest and placed her hand around him. Robert carefully put his one hand on her waist and caressed her back with the other - wrapping his arms around her more securely he buried a tender kiss in her hair.

She nodded in agreement and tried to stop the flow of tears, her body still pressed tightly against his. Not that Robert minded of course. No, not one bit.

"Also, I'm apologizing for not waking you up earlier. You began mumbling, something you haven't done in a long time. I should have known something was wrong."

"It's not your fault." Cora said calmly, letting out a yawn. "It really isn't your fault."

Robert's hands continued their patterns along her back, his lips still kissing along her hair. Soon, her tears completely stopped and she lapsed back into slumber. Robert would remain alert, ensuring no more bad dreams could enter her mind that night. It was the least he could do for his wife. And, as she slept, Robert looked back to the stars, to the only light beyond the darkness - to the bright light of hope - and he begged these stars in the sky for his Cora to make it out of this mess, so that someday she would be able to have peaceful sleep, and to simply be happy. She deserved as much.

As Cora completely relaxed into her husband's arms, feeling them protectively wrapped around her tiny frame, she fell soundly into a deep sleep against him - but little did Cora know that this was the last time she would ever fall asleep on the Titanic.

* * *

 ** _Whether you loved it or hated it, I would really like to hear your reviews and critiques. Thanks in advance!_**


	16. Confessions

**A/N:** _Hello all, I have returned from the great wide wilderness of my vacation and so I bring to you this chapter. Yes, that sentence sounds just as weird to me as it does to you, but I'm leaving it like that heh! Anyhow the trip was very nice, though it put me rather behind in my writing. I was rewriting this chapter at least four times, and let's say that I'm kinda satisfied with this version, so I hope you people enjoy it too._

 _Now I want to thank my AMAZING beta_ **Courtland** _, I really don't know where I'd be without you. You gave me a wonderful idea for this chapter and I'm giving you a full credit over it._ Thank you.

 _And thank you my loyal reviewers for your kind and always inspiring feedback. I can't thank you enough for all of the wonderful support I receive with each chapter. Enjoy and_ **R &R** _!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER XVI**

 ** _Confessions_**

 _"Our pride we now confess it_

 _Is a sin that couldn't last;_

 _Our passion if we kiss it_

 _Is like a dream now passed."_

 **14, April 1912;**

Elsie and Charles seemed to have finally run out of things to yell at each other. In fact, Elsie was fairly certain that she had run out of things to say, period. Shoving her hands into her pockets; Elsie rocked back on her heels and looked up at the sky - it was a very clear night, full of shinning stars bright above them, and Elsie enjoyed the view. Charles, as much at a loss for words as Elsie was, gave a light cough, drawing her attention back down to earth. He tugged the brim of his hat, gave Elsie a quick, curious look and headed off towards the stern of the ship. When Charles realised that she wasn't following him, he turned back and quirked one eyebrow. Elsie shook her head, bemused, and trotted to catch up.

The pair made their way to the furthest end of the Third Class Deck in silence, one that somehow managed to be both simultaneously comfortable and awkward at the same time, until finally they were both standing at the very stern of the ship. Charles propped his elbows on the railing and clasped his hands lightly in front of himself, staring out into the night. Elsie took up a similar pose on Charles' left. For a long time nothing was said; they didn't even look at each other. Elsie watched the Titanic churning the sea in its wake, the wind blowing her hair around her face.

Pushing the loose curls back with one forearm, Elsie leaned out over the rails and peered down into the ocean, trying to imagine the enormous propellers that were pushing them through the water. Charles tugged gently on her sleeve.

"Mind you don't fall overboard. I don't much fancy having to rescue you." He said.

Elsie made a face but obediently pulled back, and because Charles had broken the silence first, Elsie felt it safe to talk again. She scooted closer to Charles, so that their shoulders were almost touching and rested her chin on one fist.

"So Charles," She said, "you never told me what you'd want to be."

Charles shifted to face her. "What are you on about now then?" He asked with a puzzled, half smile. He looked wary, as though afraid that she was about to launch into another tirade.

"When you were in your twenties," Elsie explained, tucking her hair over one shoulder to keep it out of her eyes. "What was it you wanted to be?"

"Christ Elsie, I've told you that I don't think like you," Charles exclaimed, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I don't know. It was so long ago."

Elsie pouted. "Not fair, I told you mine."

"Yes, me and the whole of third class," Charles replied with a laugh. He leaned back against the railings. "You've always loved being a lady's maid, right?"

"That's right," Elsie said, prodding him in the chest. "And you might think it's not a good fit for me, but that's just because you've never paid any attention to how I work. Mark my words, I'm the best on the continent."

Charles smirked. "Elsie, I'm learning fast not to doubt much of anything you say."

Elsie beamed at him, then forced her expression back into something more serious, "C'mon now, you must've thought of something," She wheedled, hands on hips. "What you wanted to be? And don't say a fisherman, that's cheating."

"As I said, I've not really given it much thought," Charles replied, scratching under the brim of his cap. He seemed to realise that Elsie wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily, and so spent a moment contemplating the question. "All right then, I'll confess - I have a little history of being a musician."

Elsie blinked. "What?"

"You heard me," Charles said seriously; his solemn front, though, was betrayed by the persistent upward twitch of one corner of his mouth. "I was a musician...or a dancer, however you want to call it." He continued, grinning roguishly, all pretence abandoned. "I always admired that Elgar fella."

"Oh well, now you're just making fun of me." Elsie said, a mock wounded look on her face.

Charles smiled and shook his head. "Nah, I'm not. Not really." He resumed his original position at the railings and tilted his head up to watch the star-dotted sky.

"I was different back then, much different," He said, in a much altered voice than he had used before.

Elsie came up beside him. "Yes?" She said, glancing at him sideways. There was truth in this statement, unlike the first two grand proclamations. "How different?"

"A lot different," Charles replied immediately, not taking his eyes off of the sky. "Anything you could imagine. I started small though mind, little things people needed." He flicked his gaze down to Elsie for an instant, then looked away again. "I made my neighbour a table to do her lessons on once. It was a nice time though."

The tiny note of pride in his voice made Elsie's chest ache. She swallowed hard and looked up at him, trying to keep the extent of her emotions off of her face. "That so?"

"Aye," Charles nodded. He looked at her again, as though he was deciding whether or not to tell her what was on his mind.

"You know…I almost got into carpentry, when I was younger. I started working at the docks when I was eleven, see? Doing small things, not on the boats yet. My father got me the job."

"He's a fisherman too, right?" Elsie asked, recalling that Charles had said something to that effect once before.

Charles nodded. "Was," he corrected her. "He went down with his boat one summer when I was about sixteen. That was the same summer I almost got to learn the building trade. See, from all the helping around the docks I'd gotten good with tools, fixing things that were broken and all that. Anyway, this big-shot carpenter from London, he started hanging around the pier, looking for boys he could hire to work cheap at his shop."

Elsie bobbed her head in understanding. "And he wanted you to work for him?"

"More than that even - he wanted me to be his apprentice, said I had real talent." And again she could hear the quiet gut-wrenching pride in his voice. "But the thing was he couldn't pay me, just give me a room and board until I was trained enough to make my own way. And we could've managed all right, except that…"

"Your father died." Elsie finished quietly, "And you couldn't afford to go."

"Yes," Charles said. He paused a moment as though remembering. "I never even told my mother that there had been the chance; she was grieving enough as it was. For a while I wondered what might have happened if things had been different, hoping that maybe it could've still happened, but eventually I just…stopped. There wasn't any point, you see." He smiled down at Elsie, his expression wistful. "But Elsie, I tell you, I could've been something else. If he'd lived...maybe I would have never ended up at Downton. You never know."

Elsie wanted to cry, to throw her arms around him, or both. This explained almost everything, everything about what it was that made them so different; for all that she'd had it rough, Elsie knew she had never been disappointed that way. She stared at her hands, blinking hard.

"I'm sorry, Charles."

Charles shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. "Never mind," he said, clearing his throat, "But now you know, and I feel slightly guilty that I never shared this with you earlier." He gave an uncomfortable-sounding laugh, looking away like he was once again remembering something. "'Sides, if I'm to believe you, I might still be able to try some day - building, I mean."

"Of course you can," Elsie said immediately, laying a hand on his forearm. "Charles, there's no reason at all why you couldn't."

Charles made a disbelieving sort of noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "Elsie, you'd say the same thing if I told you I wanted to sprout wings and fly to America."

Elsie accepted the teasing with a wry smile and elbowed him gently in the ribs. "Ah hah, very funny."

They lapsed into silence again, each lost in their own thoughts. The only sound was the noise of the waves, and the light flickering through the hollow sound of the breeze that lifted Elsie's hair from her shoulders; sending it fluttering gently around her face. Elsie watched the stars that were spilled across the sky, they were like little holes in the floor of heaven; so bright, and unwavering; with an infinite source of comfort and familiarity in them. It was once again Charles who broke the silence.

"I've never told anyone that, you know," he said, so quietly that Elsie almost missed it.

Elsie looked at him in surprise. "Well then," she said with a small smile. "It's about time, isn't it?"

Charles gave a soft chuckle and shook his head. Elsie nudged him with her elbow again.

"No, really, what were you waiting for?" She teased, trying to mask how touched she was by his admission.

Charles shrugged. "Someone who'd understand, maybe." He replied. "Someone like you." He gazed right into her eyes. "I can't believe I didn't notice it earlier. I was so caught up in the idea that no one would understand...so, I never tried to find someone who actually would."

Caught off guard by this statement Elsie stared at Charles with her mouth hanging open, for the space of about three seconds, before regaining control of her motor functions and dropping her gaze to her hands. Elsie inspected her nails for a moment, and then, without really making a conscious decision to do so, reached out across the railing and linked her fingers through his. Charles gave her a startled look that Elsie, staring fixedly at the area directly in front of her nose, caught out of the corner of her eye. Just as Elsie was sure that he was going to pull away, his hand tightened around hers and he returned to his inspection of the darkness beyond the stern, leaving their hands linked across the top of the rails.

It was incredible, Elsie thought of how comfortable she felt, and despite how long a period of time she'd known Charles, she had never seen this side of him. Despite the fact that they seemed to spend more time causing each other grief than not; Elsie couldn't think of a single place she would rather have been in that moment, than standing there on the deck of the Titanic with Charles' fingers laced through her own. It felt right somehow, it felt like that was where she belonged. And though the thought was silly and sentimental and maybe even a little bit scary, Elsie couldn't shake it. She wanted it to stay that way - in that crystal-clear, perfect bubble of a moment, for as long as she could.

After not nearly enough time, however, Charles shifted position pointedly, breaking Elsie out of her musings. He gently, and with apparent reluctance released her hand; the cool air taking the place of the warmth against her palm.

"It's gotta be getting awful late, Elsie," he said, slanting a glance at her that was almost bashful. "You ought to get to bed."

"'It's all right, I'll stay here." Elsie replied lightly, shrugging one shoulder.

Charles gave a short laugh and threw her a mildly exasperated look. "Well, I was planning to turn in myself," he said raising one eyebrow. "But if you want to stay up here alone, God knows I can't stop you."

Elsie felt her cheeks grow warm. She tucked a stray curl behind one ear – a fairly futile gesture considering how much of her hair had come loose – and attempted to appear nonchalant. "Oh. Well. That's another story then."

"Hmmmm," Charles said by way of reply, a knowing smile flickering across his features. He nodded towards the stairs. "C'mon then, I'll walk you to your cabin."

"Charles, my cabin is yours too, remember?" Elsie reminded him playfully. "You can hardly help but walk me."

Charles made a face, seeing what mistake he'd made. "Well, you could still appreciate the gesture at least," Elsie laughed and Charles held out one arm. "Are you coming or not?"

Looking at the offered limb with some surprise, Elsie hesitated for a split second.

"All right, I'm coming," she said, and looped her arm through his. "If we get caught in the First Class section of the boat this late, there'll be scandal though," she added with a sly grin.

Rolling his eyes Charles said. "I'll risk it."

They made their way, arm in arm, back down to the Well Deck, then past the General Room and Smoke Room to the main staircase, chatting about pleasant nothings. Elsie told him about her home and how her father had built her a tiny loft bedroom above the kitchen when she had turned thirteen; to save her the indignity of sharing a bed with her sister, and Charles told her about his friends and family. It wasn't heated, meaningful talk like they usually seemed to gravitate to, but it was nice, Elsie thought, it was nice.

Elsie tried very hard not to read anything into it, ignoring with great difficulty the warmth of Charles' body, the secure feeling of his arm linked through hers and the renewed conviction that somehow, with him, she seemed to fit. She told herself that Charles would have behaved this way with any woman, because he was a gentleman and that's what gentlemen did. Even though a stubborn, hopeful inner voice persisted in telling her otherwise, none of Charles' behaviour had anything to do with the fact that it was her he was with. That really was too much to hope for.

They seemed to arrive at their cabin doors in a woefully short amount of time. She wished they were roomed further astern, or down a few more levels, just so the walk might be prolonged a bit more. Still, Elsie kept her face neutral, as though she wasn't the slightest bit disappointed about how quickly they had reached their room.

"I think I shall go and find those two palls we share a room with." Charles paused, fixing his jacket. "I don't want them to get into trouble."

"Well Charles Carson," Elsie said cheerfully, reclaiming her arm with a carefully concealed reluctance. "It's nice to see you caring about our roommates," She added with a half smile.

"And I don't know if I can thank you for a pleasant evening, but I suppose I can thank you for an interesting one."

"That's for sure and certain," Charles replied in a dry voice. He looked at her thoughtfully then added. "Though, I think I could probably thank you for more besides."

Elsie blinked, not sure what to make of the comment, and inclined her head quizzically. Charles smiled, not exactly at _her_ but more to himself, Elsie thought. Then, quite unexpectedly, he reached out and brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her eyes, tucking them carefully behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her cheek for just a fraction longer than necessary before he seemed to remember himself and pulled his hand back. Elsie stared at him, completely speechless.

For an instant, Charles seemed on the verge of saying something important, but instead he just shook his head. "Well…good night, Els."

He had never called her that before and Elsie, still off-balance from the memory of his touch, was powerless to stop the smile that started to spread across her face at the sound of the pet name. It sounded so easy on his lips, as though there was nothing out of the ordinary in him calling her that.

She had evidently taken too long to respond because Charles gave her a quick farewell nod and said. "See you tomorrow," and turned to walk off towards the bar where he was almost certain he would find his friends.

Snapping out of her momentary stupor, Elsie called, "Charles!" He turned back to her, eyebrows raised in question, "I…" Elsie searched for the right words, but couldn't find them, could not even settle on what it was she wanted to say. "Never mind. G'night then."

Charles smiled at her, walking backwards a few paces to keep her in sight. Finally, he turned and ambled away. Elsie watched him go, feeling oddly disconcerted. Then, with a sigh and a bemused shake of her head, she let herself into the darkened room and shut the door behind herself.

* * *

The couple strolled down the deck in the fresh morning light, his hand firmly entwined with hers. The sun shone brightly and it illuminated the entire First Class Deck. There weren't many people around, just a few brave ones that liked to pretend that the cold air didn't bother them at all.

After a few more moments of silence, Robert finally found the courage to speak.

"Are you really, _absolutely_ sure that you don't want to go on to breakfast?" He continued, "Usually you're always the one that talks about how breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

She added a faint chuckle before answering. "I'm absolutely sure that I don't want to go, Robert." She said casually. "I'd rather come up here and catch some fresh air. It was quite a night." Cora said and fixed a few strands of her hair that had come loose by the cold April breeze.

Robert paid close attention to her movements and thought a bit about her answer until a reasonable thought came to his mind.

"I get it," Robert deeply inhaled and put his frozen hand into his pocket. "You don't want to see him, right?"

Cora sighed, half in agony, half in frustration. "If you want to go down, go ahead, I will be perfectly fine here on my own." She told him, avoiding his questions as much as his tensed gaze.

"Cora," Robert stopped walking, his voice freely showing concern, "I promised you that I would stay by your side for the whole day." He put his fingers under her chin and carefully raised up her head to get a proper look at her face, "I'm not leaving you alone."

Cora rolled her eyes in annoyance and looked away, saying. "Honestly, you really have to stop treating me like a child."

Seeing the clear change in her behaviour and how sly she'd avoided his question, Robert added, "Does it still bother you?" His eyebrows narrowed as he looked right into her coloured eyes.

She let out a deep sigh and watched as her warm breath transformed into a white mist upon the cold April breeze before answering his question. "It does... _a little._ " She answered pointedly, but not truthfully. "I'm still distressed and seeing him would only make things worse." Cora felt her heart had started to race inside of her chest as flashbacks of her nightmare entered her mind. She tried to shake them away, but it was no use.

Robert's eyes softened at her words and he quietly spoke. "Was Patrick really _that_ awful?"

"You have no idea." She said under her breath, looking away, lost in some private thought of hers. "I don't want to remember." She said, once again fixing that loosened curl behind her ear. "Can we please change the subject?"

"I apologise." Robert said with sincerity in his voice, "I know it must be hard for you, and sometimes I can be quite unfeeling."

Cora instantly looked sideways at his face when she detected something unexplainable within his voice.

"Darling you're not unfeeling, you're just worried, and I get that." She turned her head so now she could directly see his face, her tender eyes looking deeply into his. "Yes, you can be annoying sometimes, I won't deny that." Cora said and they both shared a quick laugh before she continued. "It's just - I just don't think I'm ready to talk openly about it, not yet, that's all."

Cora looked at her husband's face for a few more seconds, observing his facial features, searching for his reaction. His eyes never failed to hold her attention. She loved them, especially when they changed colour depending on Robert's mood. Cora remembered how her mother had told her to first fall in love with his eyes - because the eyes are the only things that don't age - so if she fell in love with his eyes, she would be in love forever. Back then it had sounded stupid, but now, after all this time, she finally realised that she had already fallen in love with them long ago.

Finding herself getting lost within his eyes, she came back to reality by the sound of his velvet voice.

"I will wait, then." Robert smiled shortly, seeing that her eyes were fixed firmly on his face.

"You're staring." He looked puzzled at first, but seeing her innocently blushing under his words made him chuckle. Robert planted a soft kiss onto her forehead. "You're so caring and beautiful. You never fail to make me smile so brightly."

Cora looked down as she felt herself blush more and more. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I quite enjoy seeing you blush. I should make you do that more often." Robert said, caressing her face with the back of his fingers.

Cora laughed. "I wouldn't if I were you. I already blush as much as it is. If you did it anymore on purpose, I may turn permanently red."

Robert laughed along with her as they continued to walk down the deck. Shortly afterwards, Cora turned towards him to look at her husband's face again. She noticed earlier that she hadn't been the only one with a hue of red on her face; the corner of Robert's eyes were adored with red lines, like he had been reading for too long, or perhaps from another sleepless night.

"You didn't sleep at all." Cora said, her eyes once again looking closely at his.

"You scared me yesterday, you know." He said with a nervous chuckle, "And I was attacked by a sudden rush of insomnia, so really it was a mixture of everything."

Cora turned her head away, biting her lower lip - feeling slightly guilty. Last night hadn't been easy for her nor Robert, and she knew it. She was now pretty sure that he had stayed awake through the whole night just to give her a sense of security, and to make sure no more bad dreams disturbed her peaceful sleep.

Cora opened her mouth, wanting to answer him, but a sudden wave of dizziness overtook her body and it didn't allow her to speak. _Dear God why now_ , she thought; knowing that her stomach wasn't going to settle down any time soon. She quickly moved away from Robert and found a place next to the railing, leaving him being her, confused.

She hurried forward, closing her eyes, trying to control herself as much as she could. Cora put her palms on the railing, slightly gripping it, trying to silently fight her wave of nausea. It clearly wasn't a good moment for it to show up, not while they were together. It was getting harder and harder for her to keep this secret from Robert, especially when he was witnessing everything.

Shortly afterward, Robert found his way next to her, looking entirely confused about the change of events.

"If you wanted to have changed our path you could have just said, not run away." His eyebrows knitted together as he moved his hand up and down her arm. She still didn't bother to look or to talk to him, knowing that her voice or eyes may betray her immediately.

Getting no answer from her, he spoke. "Darling, are you alright?" Noticing again her strange paleness, he moved closer to her, "Cora..."

"I-I..." She stammered, but finally found her voice, "I just wanted to see..." She paused, bringing her forefinger between them and started to rotate it in the air for theatrical effect, "the-the sea." She swallowed hard, her mind racing.

" _The sea?_ " Robert questioned, slightly shocked by her statement.

"Uhm, you know, look how beautiful it is." Cora shot her eyes open and fixed her gaze on the sea beneath them. It sloshed gently against the side of the ship. The sea was dark and relatively calm. Cora put her hands on the rail and leaned slightly over to look down the side of the ship, making a perfect show of being interested. Almost instantly she felt a pair of cold arms wrapping tightly around her waist.

"Do you remember what happened the last time? I wouldn't want to have to save you from another fall." Robert said casually with a smile adoring his face.

Cora giggled, feeling her dizziness slowly fading away. "Well, that would be bad. Considering how cold the water must be."

"The water wouldn't bother me." Robert laughed, clearly joking. "Though, I don't think a cold swim would be in your best interest."

Cora chuckled darkly and leaned into Robert. He wrapped his arms closer around her waist and pulled her to him. Cora rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, a genuine smile forming on her face and the warmth of her husband's body comforting her. She could think of no other place she would rather be, but in the arms of the man she deeply loved.

Promptly, Cora overlapped her arms onto the ones Robert had around her waist and pulled herself closer to him. He kissed her forehead again and in return she kissed his neck. Robert stilled slightly and Cora smiled - she liked how she could have some effect on him as well. She brushed her lips against his neck once again and ran her hands gently over his forearms.

"Cora," He said in a husky voice.

She smiled, looking up at him. "Yes?"

"What's gotten into you now?" Robert smiled, sensing her lust. He quickly switched the position of his arms so that hers were pinned to her waist - and he had a gentle hold on her wrists. Robert leaned down to her ear and whisper. "You should behave, Cora. You underestimate my control and you're a bit too desirable for your own good." He let out a faint chuckle.

Cora smiled even more widely. "Perhaps I like it that way."

Robert released her wrists as his hands trailed down her waist, rubbing circles with his thumbs over it. Cora's breathing turned ragged and hard, and Robert laughed quietly at the effect.

"Two can play this game, you know it perfectly well Cora." His velvet voice whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear.

For a moment Cora just stared blankly, permanently speechless and thoroughly seduced. He brought his lips to the skin of her face and left a gentle kiss on her jaw-line.

"That felt heavenly." Cora said, and seeing him pulling away she groaned slightly in disappointment. "You don't play fair." She said bemused and Robert laughed until another voice showed up.

"Mr. Crawley?"

The two of them instantly jumped apart and Robert turned around to see who the source of the voice belonged to. Upon seeing who it was, a limp half smile started to spread across his face.

"Mr. Jack." Robert said, offering his wife a hand as they headed toward the young boy. "Pleasure to see you."

"Well," Jack raised an eyebrow and exchanged looks with Fabrizio, who sat on the wooden bench next to him. "We would have said hello earlier, but we didn't want to ruin the moment."

Taken by surprise Robert looked sideways at Cora who already had her head bowed down, a gentle red colour forming on her usually pale cheeks again.

"Anyway," Robert continued when he noticed a notebook and some coal pencils scattered around the bench. "You're an artist?" He questioned.

"I guess you can put it like that." Jack said proudly, offering Robert his sketchbook. "Wanna take a look?"

"It'd be my pleasure." Robert lightly nodded and took the sketchbook into his hands. He stood closely to Cora so both of them could see. Robert opened it and immediately found himself surprised by the young man's talent. Each one of his drawings expressed a little bit of humanity; an old woman's hands, a sleeping man, a father and daughter at the rail. The faces were luminous and alive. Then it came to Robert's mind, Jack's sketches were a celebration of human conditions.

"Mr. Jack, these are quite good!" Cora exclaimed, staring in awe along with Robert.

"Well," said Jack with a fake laugh. "They didn't think like that back in Paris."

"That's absurd," Cora continued, turning the next page in his book and instantly her eyes opened wide in surprise.

"Well, _well_..." Robert let out a cough as he came upon a series of nudes. "These are very, _very_ good."

Cora eyed Robert and nudged him with her elbow, reminding him of her presence while the boys on the bench burst out laughing.

" _What_? I'm just telling the truth." Robert chuckled along with them while he was transfixed by the languid beauty Jack had created. His nudes were different - soulful, real, with expressive hands and eyes. They felt more like portraits than studies of the human form... almost uncomfortably intimate.

Robert studied one drawing in particular; the girl was posed half in sunlight, half in shadow. Her hands lying at her chin, one furled and one open like a flower, languid and graceful.

"And these were drawn from life?" Asked Robert, clearly interested at the boy's work.

"That's right. That's one of the great things about Paris. Lots of girls are willing to take their clothes off." Jack said laughing, and Robert shook his head amused.

"You have a gift, Jack. You do. You see people." Cora said, deciding that they had seen enough, she closed the book as some strollers passed by and took it from Robert's hands, handing it back to Jack again.

"Thank you, m'lady." Jack replied with a half smile, feeling intensely proud.

"I've had a thought," Robert exclaimed, exchanging looks with all three of them and then approached Jack. "Why don't you draw me and my wife standing right here, on the Titanic."

Entirely surprised at the offer, Jack's eyebrows rose almost to his hairline.

"It would be my pleasure, Sir." Jack started rambling through his sketchbook, trying to find a blank page. "Just-just stand right there, then leave the rest to me." Jack said, lighting up a cigarette and blowing out a smoke ring.

Walking to the railing, Robert smiled his crooked smile and Cora smiled back at him. His arms were around her in a fraction of a second.

"Why are you doing this?" Cora questioned softly, "It's not that I'm against it, but I'm pleasantly surprised by this."

"Oh, I just thought that we could spend the day without having to act all proper around everyone." Robert said with a twinkle in his blue eyes. Cora grinned at his words - she had a feeling there was something more behind it, but she didn't push it.

"Besides, I thought it'd be a nice memory." Robert added, smiling wider.

"Put both hands firmly on the lady's waist and look her straight in the eye." Jack spoke up with his pencil ready in his hands; the sketchbook atop his lap, startling the couple nearby.

"But try to look relaxed, and somehow try to make your expression look natural." Jack murmured with the cigarette still between his lips, sharpening his pencils. "And Cora, put your left hand on his elbow and the right one on his shoulder. Don't grip it, try to look relaxed too. "

Cora obeyed and did as the young gentleman said. She put her left hand a little bit lower and came closer to Robert's face, following Jack's strict instructions.

"I think I'm ready to start now, just try to stay still." Jack said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth to stub it out. He took a coal pencil and started drawing smooth lines across the white paper.

Robert gazed at Cora in silence, nothing else could be heard beside the waves splashing against the steel of the ship beneath them. Cora's sapphire eyes were looking right into his, and he couldn't do anything else but marvel at her beauty while inhaling her sweet scent.

This - having her soft, tiny body pressed up against his, moulding to fit against his hard muscles and smooth, russet skin - and her soft cherry lips so close that he could feel more than hear the quiet gasp that escaped; so close that her hair tickled his chin, made his fingers itch to be entangled within the soft locks - and it was this, the worst kind of torture: full of anticipation and lust, and _oh God_ , Robert just wanted to touch those lips so goddamn bad.

The air between them was thick and charged with a palpable, tangible energy. Even though the weather was cold and cloudy, Robert felt heated and it was stifling. His muscles twitched in anticipation.

Her small fingers, still numb from the cold, slowly travelled up his arm which were tightly wrapped around her waist; disobeying Jack's instructions. Her sensual touch left a tingling trail of goose pimples the higher they went, and he pulled her impossibly closer to him.

Cora wasn't sure when she made this decision, and the assault of butterflies and the tightening coil of heat deep inside her gut were proof that maybe she hadn't - her body, her heart, something deep inside her that was connected to him, that already belonged to him, had taken over.

Robert leaned in, closing the distance between them, and her eyes fluttered closed. It seemed like an eternity had gone by as they stood there by the railing, ignoring anyone who passed them.

"Look at me," Robert commanded silently, but his voice was both tender and hard - a mixture Cora was unable to deny. He had to see her eyes before he kissed her, even though he was too far gone to turn back now. He wanted to know, to make sure this was really what she wanted.

Cora's eyes shot open, her heart pounding inside of her chest, she could feel the blood in her ears, and her breathing hitched as he finally - finally - leaned in, and his warm, soft lips brushed oh-so-lightly against her own.

Cora let out an involuntary whimper, desperately craving more of him. She felt his triumphant smirk as he pressed his mouth a little firmer against hers. Their lips moved achingly slow together, melding to one another with a fevered intensity.

"Jack, draw this faster, faster, faster." Fabrizio whispered cheerfully, his Italian accent thick. "Oh _mio Dio_!"

"I'm tryin', I'm tryin'." Said Jack, who had his green eyes firmly fixed upon the passionate couple in front of him. His hand was moving faster and faster on the paper, trying to catch the right facial expressions, paying special attention to their lips, hands and closed eyes.

"C'mon! You're slow as a turtle." Fabrizio teased, watching his friend's hand moving in an incredible speed across the paper. Jack's lines soon started forming recognisable figures, and adding a few more details here and there, Jack finished his masterpiece.

"There," Jack proclaimed with a half smile on his face as he signed the drawing with his initials and wrote _14, April '12_ in the right corner of the paper. For a split second he marvelled at his own work. Sometimes he really felt like he'd given life to the coal figures he drew on paper; they felt alive, full of passion and life.

For the first time in so many years he had actually caught love within a sketch - he'd forever captured the love the two held for one another within darkened shades of coal, and for the first time, Jack saw the talent he held within himself.

Not noticing that Jack had finished the drawing, Cora didn't allow Robert to stop just yet. Hell, she didn't even notice and couldn't even form a coherent thought. All her attention was focused on the amazing, heady feel of his mouth on hers. His lips moving with hers like two plates deep within the earth; rumbling for all to hear, and his tongue tangled and danced with hers in a complicated and seductive rhythm.

Jack and Fabrizio started coughing repeatedly, hoping the couple nearby would notice soon. Hearing the echoing sounds, they broke apart, slightly frozen for half a second.

"Aye, we're sorry for spoilin' the moment, but it's finished." Jack smiled and raised an eyebrow in Robert's direction. "Thought you'd like to see it."

"We ruined it, didn't we?" Cora bit her lower lip, feeling her cheeks growing pink again.

"No, no, quite the opposite." Jack shook his head, looking directly at the couple approaching him.

Cora sighed deeply, ignoring Jack's comment. "We're really so..."

"No, just look." Jack cut her off.

Taken aback by this, Cora took the drawing in her hands.

"Yes," Cora said with a slight breathlessness. "Yes, of course."

As soon as her eyes stumbled upon the sketch, she became speechless. In the end, Jack did succeed. He'd captured them perfectly. Staring in awe, she showed it to Robert who stood behind her.

"Very impressive." Robert raised an eyebrow, once again admiring his talent.

"Well, it didn't go as planned," Jack lit another cigarette and leaned back against the bench. "But I think this is a much better version. Sometimes it's good to improvise."

"Indeed..." Cora murmured absently, lost between her thoughts and the sketch in her hands.

"How much is it?" Robert questioned, his hands already looking for his wallet.

"Nah, this one is for free." Jack immediately jumped to his feet, standing in front of Robert.

"It was my pleasure to draw somethin' like this. Take it as a gift, please." Jack said easily, patting Robert's shoulder.

"You're sure?" Robert asked again, looking the boy in the eyes.

"Entirely sure." Jack casually smiled at them. "It's alright, really."

"If you say so." Robert grinned and offered Cora a hand. She immediately took it and looped her arm through his.

"Thank you." Cora expressed her gratitude and the young man bowed in front of her, taking off his hat.

"My pleasure." Jack said shortly and then the couple continued to walk down the deck, feeling the cold breeze blowing against their faces.

Cora grinned at the drawing again, looking closely at the figures on the paper, how close their bodies were, how their lips touched and their eyes were closed. She could feel the love spilling out of the paper.

Cora looked sideways at Robert's eyes - she remembered, once again, her mother's words many years ago: _eyes don't age._

Usually they were a dark blue; much like the hidden depths of the ocean, but even as a mere ray of the sun illuminated his face they became so bright, almost the same colour as hers - and in that moment Cora was sure their love could outlast the world.


	17. Raising Hope

**A/N:** _An update, finally! Herein, Charles and Robert once again act adorable. Because they're so good at it you know. Anyhow, there are approximately two chapters to go before things get...um...icy?_

 _And thank you dear **Courtland** for editing this chapter and fixing a few things that drove me crazy._

 _Also thanks for your reviews and comments. They speed up the writing and are a great motivation! Now **R &R**._

* * *

 **CHAPTER XVII**

 ** _Raising Hope_**

 _"I'm a coward to say nothing,_

 _But I mean well._

 _I say the words inside_

 _Where my feelings dwell."_

 **14, April 1912;**

Sunday morning Elsie awoke with a muffled shriek; bolting upright in her bunk and scrabbling with her hands to free herself from the tangle of her sheets, Elsie gasped for air and blinked bewilderedly around at her surroundings. Gradually, reality began to bleed back into her sleep-clouded vision, the confusing blur of images solidifying into something she recognised and remembered. Elsie let out a huge sigh of relief and pressed her hands against her chest, feeling her wild heartbeat beginning to slow beneath her palms. A nightmare, Elsie realised, she had been having a bad dream. Grinding her knuckles into her eyes, Elsie tried to recall what horror had awoken her up so violently, but it was gone, cobwebs brushed away by wakefulness. Elsie made a face – had there been people screaming? She couldn't be sure – and gave up on her efforts to remember the dream. It didn't mean anything anyway.

Kicking her legs free of the bed covers, Elsie glanced over the edge of her bunk and saw that her cabin was deserted. Jack, Fabrizio, and Charles' beds were all neatly made and their clothes, which the Italian boy always set out on the spare bunk before going to sleep, were gone. Elsie rubbed her eyes again, wondering how late she had slept in. It couldn't have been too long or else Anika, or Genevieve, would have been banging down the door.

Shaking her head, whilst still taking deep breaths - in through her nose and out through her mouth - the way her mother had taught her, Elsie retrieved her dressing gown and a fresh change of clothes and headed to the nearest privy to wash up. She gave herself a good scrubbing with warm water and soap, got dressed, did her hair and finally deemed herself presentable enough to head to breakfast.

Elsie arrived at the dining saloon completely distracted. It was clear from the noise that she was quite late; nearly all the seats were filled already. Elsie paused just inside the doorway, and blinked absently at the gathered crowd, as though she had forgotten why she was there. After a moment she shook her head, forcing her thoughts out of the depths of self-pity, and began actively searching the room for her friends.

"Good morning, Elsie."

Somehow Elsie managed not to jump out of her skin, though both hands flew to their habitual defensive position across her chest. Shooting a wry look at Charles, who seemed to, as usual, have materialised out of nowhere, she said, "Morning Charles," in the most even voice possible.

Her heart was in her throat, and Elise had the uncomfortable notion that this was not merely a result of being startled. When Charles smiled in greeting, this theory seemed to be confirmed by the fact that her pulse rate immediately doubled. Between the nightmare and crowded area, Elise had all but forgotten about everything that had happened the night before. Now it all came flooding back with an immediacy that alarmed her.

"You're late today," Charles commented. His voice was too casual and it made Elsie even more nervous. Had he been waiting for her? She wondered. And how much thought had he given last night? By the look on his face, Elsie assumed it had been a fair amount.

Still, Elsie figured it wouldn't do by turning into a tongue-tied idiot just because they may have potentially had a bit of a… _moment_ , so she merely shrugged.

"Yes, I suppose I slept in a wee bit." She said as lightly as she could.

Charles nodded, surveying her carefully out of the corner of his eye.

"Hmmm. Your friends are right there by the way." He pointed over the heads of the crowd towards the area Elsie normally sat in.

Sure enough, Anika was bouncing up and down, waving her arms frantically at the pair of them, while Genevieve, looking vaguely mortified on Anika's behalf, attempted to get the other girl to sit down and stop causing such a spectacle.

Elsie laughed. "Hard to miss, aren't they? Well c'mon then, before Anika hurts herself."

"So, you slept in, did you?" Charles said, again far too casually for Elsie's liking.

"Well that, and then I decided I ought to have a proper wash," Elsie explained, twiddling the button on the cuff of her blouse self-consciously. "The lines are never bad this time of day."

Charles nodded again. "You smell nice," he said, apparently without much thought, because he immediately snapped his jaw closed and shot her a thoroughly disconcerted look. Elsie, for her part, narrowly avoided walking straight into one of the support columns that were scattered throughout the dining hall.

Pretending not to have noticed, Charles added. "Thought maybe you had trouble falling asleep."

Elsie had, in truth, taken triple her usual amount of time to fall asleep - due almost entirely to the fact that she had spent a good hour replaying every moment of her and Charles' conversation. Of course, she wasn't about to admit this, so Elsie made a vague flapping gesture with one hand.

"Oh no. No trouble." She said.

"Well… that's good then," Charles replied.

Awkwardness rolled off around the whole encounter in waves; they were so pointedly avoiding the most obvious topic of conversation that it was almost painful. Elsie made a concentrated effort to ignore it.

Thankfully, they had made it to the table occupied by Anika and Genevieve, saving them from any more forced chatter. Anika, who was grinning from ear-to-ear, waved exuberantly at the hapless pair.

"Morning you two!" She chirruped, "Charles, you gonna sit with us today then? There's room; you can sit next to this girl," and in case there was any confusion she pointed at Elsie, "That one, I mean."

"Well I don't suppose he thought you meant either of us," Genevieve put in, looking up from her nearly ever-present book. She had a distinctly sly look on her face that Elsie didn't care for in the slightest. Marking her place with her faded blue ribbon, Genevieve gestured to the open seats. "Go on then, sit yourselves down."

Because they really had no other choice at this point, Charles and Elsie took spots side by side on the chairs facing Anika and Genevieve. Grabbing an orange from the basket in front of her, Elsie busied herself with peeling the fruit, pointedly avoiding the gazes of her friends. Both girls kept exchanging a series of maddening, knowing looks and sneaky grins. Elsie decided she had clearly been a negative influence on the duo - because she was quite certain that neither woman had been so damned cheeky at the start of this trip. Elsie could have cheerfully throttled the pair of them.

After a moment, Anika propped both elbows on the table; rested her chin on both hands and said. "So where'd you get to last night, Elsie? You disappeared without saying a word."

Elsie made quite a show of peeling the rest of her orange before answering. "Went up on deck for some air," She said in as bland a voice she could muster.

"Ah." Genevieve responded with such a wicked little smile that Elsie had to wonder what exactly she'd studied in that book of hers. "You see, Anika? She was just getting air."

"'Course." Anika said, solemnly. She fixed Elsie with a wide-eyed, innocent look that Elsie was absolutely positive she'd been practicing in the mirror this morning before coming to breakfast.

"And did you have a nice time, then? Getting _air_ , I mean?" She enquired sweetly.

"Yes, it was fine." Elsie responded tersely, methodically shredding her orange peel into citrus-scented confetti.

"Oh I'm sure it was," Anika replied. She slanted a look at Charles who, up until that moment, had been pretending to have found something fascinating in his mug.

"What do you say, Charles? Did Elsie have a nice time?"

Charles' jaw dropped open, and Elsie, who had just popped an orange segment into her mouth, practically choked on her fruit and aimed a kick at Anika under the table. She missed and hit Genevieve instead, causing the dark-haired girl to yelp and nearly topple sideways off her chair.

"Oi, what was that for?" Genevieve exclaimed, righting herself and wincing.

"I was aiming for _her_!" Elsie shot back, lobbing a piece of orange peel at Anika's head and glaring at her fiercely.

The peel caught Anika squarely in the centre of her forehead, making her squawk in surprise. She grabbed Genevieve's arm.

"Oh help, she's gonna set me on fire with her eyes," She squealed, sounding genuinely alarmed.

"Y'know," Genevieve said to no one in particular, rubbing her shin, "this is gonna bruise."

Elsie looked from Genevieve, who was now poking experimentally at her leg, to Anika, whose eyes were showing white all the way around; then finally to Charles, who gave Elsie a thoroughly bewildered look and shrugged. She felt her furious glare falter, and then the corners of her lips began to twitch. Elsie clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late to stop the giggle that erupted from her throat. She glanced at Charles helplessly, a grin spreading across her face.

Charles, taking his cue from her look said. "Well. It was a nice night."

"Oh yes, very nice," Elsie agreed, attempting to match Charles' solemn expression.

Anika, looking confused, dared to loosen her grip on Genevieve's arm. "Wait… are you saying you actually were together then?"

"We were, yes," Charles replied, still completely deadpan. "But it was terribly boring."

Elsie nodded emphatically. "Very uneventful."

"Outright dull to be honest," Charles finished. Elsie didn't dare look at him for fear that she would break down altogether; it was already near impossible to keep a straight face.

Anika and Genevieve were both gaping openly at them now; clearly neither had expected to have their suspicions confirmed. Anika in particular looked completely flabbergasted.

"But… but you threw _orange peel_ at my head!"

It was precisely then, at the last second, that Elsie could no longer pretend to be taking the situation seriously - burying her face in her arms, she dissolved into unrestrained laughter.

Charles, glancing at her sideways, said. "I don't know what her problem is," succeeding only in making Elsie laugh even harder. When she risked a look up at him, Elsie saw that Charles had abandoned his innocent façade and was now grinning broadly at her.

"I mean that. She's completely off her rocker this one." But by then he was laughing too, which was all it took for Genevieve to join in as well.

Anika looked at all three of them, muttering in her mother language. "Das ist nicht richtig." She sighed playfully, rolling her blue eyes, " _Verrückte Leute_."

She managed to hold on to her indignation for a few moments longer. "Well, you could have just said that you were together from the start, you know." She huffed.

"Careful," Genevieve gasped around bursts of giggles, "or she'll throw the marmalade and toast at you next."

Elsie and Charles, leaning against each other for support, laughed even harder. In spite of herself, Anika's face had broken into a sunny smile.

"I could become the whole breakfast!" She chirped.

The other three howled. Anika, unable to resist the mirth of her companions any longer, began to laugh as well, until all four of them were in a fit of near-hysterics. Elsie, who was clutching her ribs with one arm and had her face hidden in the other, had forgotten entirely about the earlier stress of her bad dream. Now her biggest concern was whether or not she was actually going to laugh so hard that she threw up. Before that became a truly pressing issue, the main swell of hilarity had passed, though it took nearly five minutes for anyone to calm down enough to speak.

"Oh," Genevieve said, dabbing her eyes with her napkin. "Oh Lord, I am gonna miss you folks."

Elsie, slightly breathless, gave her a quizzical half-grin. "What, are you planning on going somewhere?"

Genevieve shook her head. "Not right this minute Miss Smarty-boots," She said with another giggle. "But I mean when we get to New York. Only two more days to wait after all."

That wiped the smile off of Elsie's face, her eyebrows knitting together.

"What? You're planning on getting off the boat and disappearing forever?" She demanded.

"Oh no, 'course not," Genevieve assured her hastily. "But it won't be like it is here, will it? We won't be able te see each other every day, and you won't stay in America forever, you'll be returning home pretty soon, right?" Because Elsie didn't respond to this, Genevieve explained. " I gotta meet up with my folks first, get settled and all. Surely I've told you that? My auntie Eva's meeting me at the pier; I'm staying with her 'til I find work."

In fact, Genevieve had told Elsie about these plans, sometime during the first day of the voyage. But Elsie had forgotten all about it.

She nodded weakly. "Oh, yes I do remember you mentioning it, maybe."

"Sure. And Anika has her cousins, and I'm sure Jack'll have people waiting for him too." Genevieve continued, glancing at Charles for confirmation.

Charles, who had been watching Elsie out the corner of his vision, nodded slowly. "Jack's brother in law's friend will wait for him," he said with something like reluctance.

Genevieve smiled as this proved her point. "And you'll be meeting your people too, Elsie. So it'll be different than seeing you all the time."

"Right," Elsie said, attempting a smile. Of course, she had absolutely no one meeting her at the docks. But Genevieve didn't know that, couldn't know because Elsie had never told her as much, preferring to let the other girls assume that she had family in America too. The only person who knew otherwise was Charles, and Elsie could feel his gaze practically burning holes into the side of her head.

Anika gave out a large theatrical sniff. "That's so sad," She half-whimpered, "I like seeing you every day."

"Well we'll keep in touch, won't we?" Genevieve said quickly, trying to stave off the wave of tears that were threatening to spill over from Anika's now alarmingly, watery blue eyes. "Make sure we're all doing fine. And we'll visit each other lots, isn't that right, Elsie?"

Elsie nodded and smiled again, for Anika's sake. "Sure we will."

Brightening considerably, Anika said. "Well, so long as you all promise, I suppose that's all right."

Feeling her cheery expression starting to grow strained, Elsie dropped her gaze to her plate and pretended to be concentrating very hard on spreading jam onto her remaining piece of toast.

She felt like an idiot. What had she been thinking? That they would all waltz hand in hand off of the Titanic and remain like that for the rest of their days? Of course the others had family and friends to go to, not to mention that she didn't even live there, and knowing she would soon need to go back home anyway.

But Elsie had pushed that fact out of her mind, had not given it a thought. She had somehow assumed that because the girls were with her now, they always would be. And Charles… Elsie flicked her eyes in his direction and found that he was still watching her with something like concern. Elsie didn't have the faintest idea of what would happen once they left the Titanic, but she had thought, or hoped something would come of their relationship. All she knew was that suddenly two days seemed an impossibly short amount of time. Two days seemed like no time at all.

"Well," Genevieve said cheerfully, taking a final sip of her tea, "I'm right stuffed, I am. Think I'll go for a walk up on deck before mass."

"I'll come too," Anika said immediately, bouncing to her feet and grabbing an apple for the road. "Are you gonna come, Elsie? I know you got here later than us."

Elsie glanced at her half-eaten breakfast. She wasn't particularly hungry anymore. "Nah, I'll come with you, I've had enough," She climbed out of her chair, "I'll see you later Charles, right?"

"Sure," Charles replied with a half smile. Elsie smiled back and headed off after her friends.

Before she got far, Charles called her again, "Elsie, hold on."

All three girls stopped and turned around, but the summon was clearly intended for Elsie Hughes. Anika and Genevieve exchanged a glance, then shot Elsie identical, questioning looks. Elsie waved a hand at them.

"Er… go on, I'll catch up." Obediently the duo trotted away, though Elsie had a hunch that they weren't going to go much farther than the door to the saloon.

"Something you want, Charles?" She continued.

Charles gave her a strange searching look, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"You really don't have any one in America? No one at all?"

Elsie shrugged as though it was no big deal. "You know I don't."

"And… and you're not planning on staying there, right?" Charles asked, looking sceptical.

"Of course not," Elsie replied lightly, narrowing her eyebrows. "Why would I want to stay in America?"

Charles pulled a wry face and nodded. "Right. Stupid question."

Elsie attempting a reassuring grin, was confused. She almost wanted to take the comment back, but her pride kept her from speaking up.

Instead she said almost jokingly. "But you're not staying either, right?"

Charles gave her a surprised look, and all of a sudden Elsie was terrified of how he might answer. Maybe he had no intention of going back to England, or keeping in touch. Maybe he would be glad to be rid of her. Afraid of this possible response, afraid to hear what he had to say, and moreover afraid of how much it seemed to mean to her, Elsie cut him off before he even had a chance to open his mouth.

"You know… never mind. I'm going to catch up with the girls. I'll see you."

She dashed away without waiting for a goodbye, a dull ache blazing in her chest. Elsie pressed one hand to the spot just below her breastbone, as though trying to fill a hole, an empty space that had opened up just at the thought of losing Charles. It scared her, that hollow feeling - it scared her to think that if she got off this ship and watched Charles Carson walk out of her life, the feeling might never go away.

As Elsie had suspected, the other girls were waiting just outside the door, pretending, unsuccessfully, that they hadn't been spying on her. Elsie rolled her eyes at them and gave them a bemused smirk.

"Well, what did he want?" Anika asked keenly.

"Oh," Elsie said, with a one-shouldered shrug, "nothing important."

Anika looked crestfallen. "Really?" she wheedled, "because we thought maybe he was gonna ask if you wanted to…"

"He didn't ask anything," Elsie said, more sharply than she had intended. Seeing the wounded look on Anika's face, Elsie attempted to lighten the mood by saying in a self-deprecating tone, "C'mon Anika, Charles and I get along all right, but it's nothing more _than_ that. I doubt I'm the sort of girl he's going to go chasing after."

"If you say so," Anika said, with a toss of her blond head. "But I think you're wrong."

And with that, she grabbed Genevieve by the arm and flounced off down the hall, leaving a thoroughly bewildered Elsie in her wake.

* * *

Cora wrote down quickly in her notebook, while her eyes examined closely the blueprints of her old home upon her desk. Martha had told Cora she would like to redesign her dining room, considering it very old fashioned, asking her daughter - who always had a sense of fashion - for some help with it.

A pleasant, chilling April breeze invaded their bedroom from a large window by her side, diverting her attention.

 _A new night is setting in._

She smiled to herself knowing Robert was about to arrive soon from his meeting. Of course, hours were nothing compared to the eternity they were meant to spend together. Still, she couldn't help but miss him. Cora sighed deeply, recalling all the wonderful nights and mornings they had spent together on the Titanic. How amazing it felt that they were still so much in love after so many years together.

 _Focus_. She continued writing down in her notebook, examining the blueprints once again.

Eventually, Cora laid back in her armchair for a moment with her eyes closed and one hand pressed to her belly. Her one blessing in this whole ordeal was that she only suffered from really bad morning sickness either in the morning, or very late at night when Robert was mostly always asleep. However, Cora found that she still occasionally felt a little nauseated when she first woke up or – as she'd discovered a few days earlier – if she got overexcited or stressed. This time, luckily, the queasy feeling was momentary and it passed in only a matter of minutes.

Even though she no longer felt sick to her stomach, Cora still felt odd. She couldn't stop passing her hand across her lower abdomen, as though trying to brush the feeling away. It reminded her of the fluttering she got in the pit of her stomach when she was excited, or nervous; a quick surge of energy, a sensation of movement. Cora knew that she wasn't far enough along to be really feeling the baby move, but she thought that this must be the precursor to the kicking she was sure to feel within the next few months.

She rested back on her comfortable armchair when an unexpected tingling sensation started to run through her. Disregarding it, Cora shifted on her seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, lost in her thoughts.

 _Blueprints, Cora, blueprints!_ She had to focus on her mother's project, otherwise she was never going to finish it in time. She leaned forward to make some minor changes to the blueprint when a wave of dizziness rushed through her body. She placed her palms on the desk, resting against it; trying hard to regain her senses back.

 _Here we go again_ _,_ she thought as she felt someone's hand travelling up her arm.

A moment later she jumped, absolutely terrified when she saw Robert standing by her side.

"I didn't hear you..." She brought her hand to her lips in confusion. She hadn't heard him, even though she had been expecting him.

Sitting next to her, Robert put a silver tray onto her desk, "I got you something." He said cheerfully, showing Cora her favourite food on the tray.

Seeing her still shocked expression and wide-open eyes full of confusion, Robert immediately took her hand.

"Are you alright?" She was particularly cold, colder than usual and trembling, "Cora?" He looked into her eyes, which seemed to be turning darker in colour. "You need to eat something, my dear."

 _Eat?_ How could she eat when she was repelled by the sole scent of food? Cora rubbed her forehead as if she had a headache. She actually wasn't feeling very hungry, not even hungry at all.

"I'm not hungry. I can handle it." She murmured.

He stared at her fixedly. She looked gone, anxious; probably still feeling the echoes of her nightmare. "You haven't eaten anything, you should go on to lunch with the girls."

"I can handle it." Cora repeated, this time forcing a smile, but it was useless. Robert had known her for more than two decades, and he couldn't be so easily fooled. Still, he didn't pressure her.

"Are you sure?" His eyes focused again onto her features.

She looked away to avoid his scrutinising gaze. "Yes."

Breaking out the tension, Cora wrapped her arms around him, "I've missed you today." She genuinely confessed.

Robert couldn't help but to embrace her back - and then remembered upon the trade they'd exchanged that morning - he slid his hand into his pocket; his fingers touched with affection the soft fabric of the handkerchief Cora had given him, and he pulled it out for her to see.

"You still have it?" She smiled when her eyes fell upon the object.

"Of course." Robert gave her a half smile, and planted a kiss on the top of her head as he rose from his seat; leaving her there slightly disappointed. Without a word, Robert walked into another room, casually taking off his tie.

Cora's eyes followed him, but as soon as he vanished from her vision, she fixed her gaze onto the food in front of her. She stood before the tray Robert had brought and she immediately noticed her senses began to change, it was an alarming surrender; her revulsion giving way to the mouth-watering delicacies that lay before her.

Cora took a deep breath to blow away the strange sensation of suddenly wanting to devour everything on the table, but it only made things worse. As soon as her body inhaled one more gasp of delectable, lungful air; the alluring smell of food placed her in a trancelike state, and she was filled with a great sense of eagerness.

Before losing it, Cora pulled the tray closer, wrinkling the blueprints underneath, but not giving them much thought. She served herself a spoonful of what seemed to be mashed potatoes, with a generous amount of cranberry sauce on top. Straight away, in a very unladylike way, she shoved the spoon full of the succulent mixture into her mouth.

 _Heaven is a place on earth._

Everything around her was suddenly forgotten, and her ladylike manners were left behind as soon as the forkful of baked potatoes touched her palate.

She shoved another into her mouth... _Too good to be true._

It had been more than ten minutes of her feast, when a tall, dark haired; incredibly attractive man appeared standing by the door frame of their bedroom, looking straight at her.

She gulped at the sight.

Robert took the end of his tie and removed it from his neck with a perfect swing before starting to walk towards her desk. His footfalls were heeled with curiosity, his eyes never leaving the scene she was painted in, and Robert couldn't help but smile at the delightful view he had in front of him. A little spot of sour cream at the right corner of her lips revealed the naughtiness she had gotten herself into, and by the way she looked; it was as if he had that happy, twenty year old Cora sitting there before him once more.

Without a word, he sat at the table again, right in front of her.

Feeling a little strange that he had found her under such circumstances, Cora sucked her lips into her mouth, waiting for him to say something.

Still amused by her look, Robert merely reached over and delicately wiped off the sour cream from the corner of her lips with his thumb.

"Sour cream." He tried hard not to chuckle but failed. Out of all the scenarios he had imagined before he had returned back to the room - this one had never crossed his mind; after all, she had declined the food he'd brought for her.

She looked down at her dish with a look that was half embarrassed, but there was a smile drawn upon her face.

"What's going on, Cora? One minute you're not interested in food at all, and then here you are..." He paused, trying to find the words. Robert leaned down, his eyes searching for her own, which once more had darkened.

"I don't know..." She said untruthfully, looking at him. "I really don't know." She shrugged. "I guess I just wanted to have... an unladylike moment."

"An unladylike moment." He repeated, trying to understand. Her behaviour as of late was certainly developing in the most interesting of ways. He reached for her hand, longing for her touch.

"Are you upset about something?" The most comforting part for him was that she held his hand in return.

"No dear," She caressed his hand, like she was brushing the cobwebs of worry away from his fingertips. Cora knew that he was concerned, and she couldn't deny that she had been pushing him aside for the past twelve hours; like she never had before, but truly she didn't want to stress Robert over problems in her own head. "I'm sorry if I'm..."

"It's alright." He interrupted her, "You need your own space, I understand." He entwined his fingers with hers in a tender, sweet way. It felt so nice for both of them, to feel the warmth cupped between their embracing palms; then Robert's dark eyes looked straight into hers. "But you're not running away from me tonight." He roguishly smiled, squeezing her hand with affection.

A look of confusion bloomed across her face.

"We'll be having dinner with Rosamund and the others in the saloon," Robert reminded her, "... tonight."

"Oh!" She had completely forgotten, "Of course..."

"Don't worry, Mrs Hughes brought you a dress this morning." Robert didn't need to be a psychic to know that she had forgotten about it. There was definitely something going on with Cora, and he thought that her lack of appetite was related to it - but now he wasn't so sure as he looked at the tray with some of the food missing from it.

His comment seemed to have pulled an enchanting laugh out of her, just what he needed to hear.

"I think all this food is beginning to affect me." She frowned, instinctively moving one hand to her abdomen; looking at the only intact dish on the tray: the pie.

"Had enough?" Robert smiled, looking for her reaction.

"Not yet." Cora leaned over the desk to whisper. "Wouldn't you like to join me?" One of her fingers pushed the dessert toward him.

"Well, I have another idea." Robert slid his hand inside his pocket, searching for something hidden within its depths. "I know you've been melancholy lately," He took out a large, black velvet case and handed it to her, she took it, numbly.

"I intended to give this to you when we arrived in America next week. But I thought tonight... perhaps it could be a reminder of my feelings for you." A half smile formed upon his face as he examined Cora's movements.

"You really didn't have to." Cora smiled genuinely, slowly opening the box, "You know that you don't have to..." She stopped, her breath completely taken away by the necklace she found there. _The Hope Diamond_ in all of its glory - it was huge; a malevolent blue stone, dark like the deepest crevasses of the ocean had been compressed into it. It glittered with a tint of crimson in the light that passed through the window; Cora brushed her fingers around its edges, which were worshiped by a link of small tear drop gemstones that crusted protectively around it, and within the core of the diamond was an infinity of refraction, holding forever Robert's love, hope and affection for her.

 _Perhaps it could be a reminder of my feelings for you._ Cora found that a gasp had escaped past her lips, "Robert..." she said breathlessly.

"I know, I know," He said, " but I wanted to." Robert grinned widely, seeing her precious reaction.

Cora stared at its beauty, her fingertips continuing their careful path along the gemstone.

"My God... Robert. Is it a-"

" _Diamond_." He interrupted, "Yes, it is. 46 carats."

"No, I-I can't accept this. It's _too_ much." Cora shook her head, still in bewilderment, handing Robert back the velvet box.

"Don't be silly. Of course you can." He took the necklace and walked around her body slowly, his eyes only leaving hers when he came to stand behind her. Robert carefully placed the cold stone around her throat. When Cora felt the heavy gemstone landing upon her skin, goose bumps burst out and covered her whole body.

"You deserve the world, Cora. The _whole_ world." Robert turned her to the mirror, staring into it too, behind her. He admired her beauty, like he always did. The diamond's much-admired, rare blue colour suited perfectly to her piercing, sapphire eyes.

"It was once presented to King Louis XIV. They called it _Le bleu de France._ " Robert said, using a strong French accent, caressing her caramel locks.

"Robert, I don't know what to say." For a second her mind went blank, a lost for words. "It is... it is overwhelming." Cora gazed at the image of the two of them in the mirror, admiring the expensive, heavy thing that was laid bare upon her chest. Its round, blue shape was unique, like a small pear one could hold within their palm, the little white, adoring gemstones were twinkling at her from where she stood. Every cut was perfect, and its brightness could blind a man.

Robert's fingers caressed her neck and throat. He was disarmed by Cora's beauty and elegance, he marvelled at her. His emotions completely unguarded.

Cora looked at her reflection, feeling slightly uneasy. The gift was exquisite, there was no doubt about that, but she felt uncomfortable about her secret. He was standing next to her and he had no idea what was going on with her; even though he was trying hard to find out what was bothering her. She had a feeling that she was being an untruthful wife, or even a traitor. And the only way to get rid of such feelings was to finally tell him the truth, but it wasn't as easy as it seemed. It never was.

How could she guarantee that Robert would be happy about it. _Does he even want another child?_ Right now they were at the point of their lives where they should be finding proper men to marry their daughters; to give Patrick the estate and live in relaxation for the rest of their days - with their family and future grandchildren. Were they even ready for it?

But, right now, Cora had to get rid of the horrid weight that was crushing her chest, going on everything or nothing. Seeing such sincerity inside his blue eyes, she felt like a betrayer.

"Robert, I-I," She stammered, swallowing hard. "Can you please sit down for a moment." With her hand she gestured for him to sit on the armchair next to her, slightly biting her lower lip.

Confused, Robert obeyed without complaint. "Is something wrong?" He searched for her gaze, but their eyes didn't meet. She slyly avoided his tense gaze.

"No, no, everything is perfectly fine." She shot him a reassuring smile, but his expression was unreadable. "I just feel the need to tell you something." She said, her hand unconsciously went to touch the cold stone around her neck.

"Well, go on." He started fidgeting on his seat, thinking she was teasing him about something unimportant.

Taking a deep breath, trying to find some more courage, Cora began to speak. "It would be unfair towards you if I kept it a-"

"I'm here!" A voice cried out, "I hope you two aren't doing anything inappropriate." Rosamund's cheerful voice echoed throughout the room, interrupting the moment by peaking through the door.

Entering the room, she said. "Sorry to spoil the moment, but if we don't go now we'll be late reaching the chapel." The redhead said, fixing her dark hat with her delicate fingers, "I mean, we're already late."

"This room has officially become a public station." Robert broke into laughter, leaning his back against the chair and bringing his palms to his face. "Everyone just comes and goes as they wish."

"Well, deal with it brother." Rosamund laughed along with him, whilst moving behind him and placing her palms onto his shoulders.

Cora giggled at the scene in front of her eyes. She didn't know if she laughed from happiness, or from nervousness. Cora also didn't know if Rosamund's interruption was a good thing, or a bad thing.

She had finally found some courage to speak, to tell her husband the truth and the fear that stood behind all of her nightmares - or so she thought she had, and before she knew it, it had vanished in a blink of an eye.

* * *

Just a little info _; The Hope Diamond_ really exists. If you want to see the real photo of it, you can look it up on the internet.

 **As always, your reviews are most welcome and appreciated!**


	18. Hope without Glory

**A/N:** _Uh oh everyone, uh oh, it's Sunday night on the Titanic. Not good. Fortunately, though you have (including this one) three (or so...) chapters before it's really really time to worry. Also, I know it has been a while since I updated and I am sorry, but from now on the updates should be coming a bit faster. I am hoping to get the next two chapters done soon, so then I can start the next month by sinking the Titanic._ Lucky me _. A lot of work went into this chapter and a lot of things happen too, so try to keep up with me._

 _Enormous thanks and rib-cracking hug once again goes to my dearest beta_ **Courtland** _for managing to fulfil my requests and edit that messy grammar._

 _And of course, thanks to everyone who reviewed. You make my day brighter and my writing better by leaving a feedback. Also you guys make me a very happy writer. Now_ **R &R** _!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER XVIII**

 ** _Hope without Glory_**

 _"How soft is the night_

 _Where dark shadows fall;_

 _The seduction of sleep_

 _Captures us all."_

 **14, April 1912;**

At the entrance to the third-class stairwell, Charles paced back and forth like an agitated animal. He had spent half an hour, since breakfast, wandering aimlessly through the Titanic's halls; thinking over a certain pressing issue that had presented itself that morning. Eventually, Charles had ended up at the staircase - and that was where he had remained. He dithered between going back up on deck or returning to his cabins - by now he could see that he was drawing puzzled looks from his fellow steerage passengers as they passed him on their way up or down the stairs.

The problem, of course, was Elsie. Currently she was sequestered in her cabin, or at least Charles suspected that was where she was; given that he hadn't seen her in any of the usual third-class haunts, nor did she appear to be up on deck with her friends anymore. This meant that Charles was going to have to go and find her deliberately, and for some reason, he couldn't quite work up the nerve.

Charles knew perfectly well that he looked ridiculous. He threw another disgruntled look in the direction of the staircase, as though it was to blame for his behaviour. It was ludicrous to be this worked up, he thought. After all, it wasn't as though he had never spoken to Elsie alone before. But this was different; something had changed. Charles knew it and he was positive that Elsie knew it too, though she would probably pretend otherwise.

After one more lap around the area for good measure, Charles stopped and hovered for a moment on the top step. Steeling himself, he took one step down, then immediately halted, turned around and retreated back up the stairs to his starting point. Once again, Charles stood there paralysed, wringing his cap between both hands. Finally, with a disgusted-sounding noise, Charles abandoned his post entirely, jamming his now-battered hat back onto his head and striding out into the open air of the Well Deck.

Dropping onto one of the teak benches that was bolted to the deck floor near the Third Class entrance, Charles attempted to gather his wits. He rolled a cigarette – mostly to give himself something to do with his hands – and stared up into the cloudless April sky without really seeing it. Charles' life up until then had always been a series of logical choices, of doing what was expected, when it was expected with little to no emotion involved, and certainly no surprises.

And then he had met Elsie. _Different_ Elsie; not in the slightest bit the same as the one he had known in Downton.

Logic did not seem to apply when it came to Elsie; that much seemed abundantly clear. Everything that Charles had ever been sure of ceased to make any sense all at once - and it was because of that damned, ridiculous woman who factored in most of the equation. Now all his careful plans and expectations had been turned completely on their head and Charles didn't have the faintest idea how or when it had happened, only that Elsie was certainly to blame.

Charles exhaled slowly, watching the expelled stream of smoke obscure the blue sky and then clear again. Cursing under his breath, he stubbed out the barely half smoked cigarette against the sole of his boot and flicked the remains into the ashtray beside the bench. Any trail of thought that Charles decided to follow always seemed to lead back to that one moment when Genevieve had reminded them all of how little time they had left together - that brief, lost expression on Elsie's face. It didn't matter how long he sat there deliberating, Charles realised; he was just going to keep coming to the same conclusion. It made no difference how he looked at it, he knew he was going to have to find Elsie, so Charles supposed that he might as well get that part over and done with.

As it happened, Charles didn't have to look very hard. Striding purposefully back into the entrance to steerage, Charles, quite literally, walked straight into Elsie who had chosen that moment to appear from below decks. If they had both been closer to the top of the staircase, the encounter would have likely ended with the pair taking a headlong tumble down the stairs. As it was, Charles practically sent Elsie sprawling.

"Jesus!" Charles swore, holding tightly to Elsie's wrists to keep her from toppling over, "Sorry Elsie."

Elsie glared good naturedly up at him and quirked one eyebrow.

"Christ Charles, are you not capable of saying hello to a body without knocking her flying, or scaring her stupid first?" She pulled her hands out of Charles' grasp and rubbed her wrists. "A simple 'hello' would have sufficed, you know."

Charles adjusted his cap and made a face. "It's not my fault you always seem to end up in my way," he grumbled. Elsie's other eyebrow curved to match the first one, and she made a small bemused noise in the back of her throat, but did not otherwise respond. Charles shook his head and gestured to the arm that she was still absently massaging.

"Are you alright?" He continued.

She laughed softly. "I will live," she assured him, letting her arm drop back to her side. Rocking back on her heels, Elsie passed one hand along the waistband of her skirt, as though smoothing the material. Charles had caught her doing that exact motion enough times by now that he had decided it was an entirely unconscious gesture on Elsie's part, a nervous habit perhaps. Elsie eyed him curiously and Charles realised that he had been staring. One corner of her mouth twitched.

"So, where were you off to in such a hurry?"

"I was looking for you, actually." Charles replied as casually as possible. Elsie's eyebrows shot halfway up her forehead again, and Charles fought to keep himself from laughing out loud. "I... uh… I ran into the other girls and they said they had lost track of you."

Elsie's eyebrows were so raised by now that they were in danger of disappearing altogether.

"Oh yes?" She asked in clear disbelief, "they failed to mention that when I saw them ten minutes ago."

Charles, having absolutely no way of countering that statement, made a vague, non-specific sound and shrugged. Elsie rubbed the bridge of her nose and failed spectacularly at hiding a smirk with the back of her hand.

"Uh huh," she said, sounding as though she was fighting back a laugh. "Well, now that you have found me, is there anything else you need me for?"

"Nothing specific," Charles replied, attempting to regain his air of nonchalance. "Suppose we go for a walk then?"

The expression on Elsie's face went from amusement to pure surprise so fast that it was almost funny. Charles smiled at her bewilderment, wondering at how she could go from being the fierce, passionate woman he had witnessed the night before, to this unsure girl who seemed utterly baffled that anyone might take an interest in her.

"Oh… well I was going to mass actually…" Elsie said reluctantly, fiddling absently with her hair. Charles had the sudden mad urge to reach out and smooth the loose curls. He responded by shoving both of his hands into his pockets.

"Really?" Charles looked her up and down in surprise, "You've never struck me much as a church person."

Elsie grimaced slightly. "I'm not," she admitted, "I mean, I went to church my whole childhood, and I've got no problem with God as a general rule but…" she hesitated, trying to find the right words. "But lately I prefer to keep that sort of thing private."

Charles frowned. "Just lately? Why's that?"

"Oh…various reasons," Elsie answered vaguely, refusing to meet his eye.

Deciding that it would be wise not to push the matter, Charles replied. "Well, we got that in common at any rate. I haven't been to a proper mass in years."

Elsie grinned. "Well, no time like the present for us two heathens then, right?" She said, "I'm going because Genevieve wanted me to go, and besides, I've figured we've got two more days at sea, and who am I to tempt the fates?"

"Fair point," Charles agreed. "Well, how about I walk you to the chapel then? We can stand at the back together and try to get back into the Lord's good graces."

"It'll take more than one visit to accomplish that I'm afraid," Elsie said, laughing, "but you can walk with me if you like, sure."

Charles inclined his head in her direction. "Then it's settled," he said amiably, "C'mon."

He did not offer her his arm as he had the night before. Though, it had seemed the most natural thing in the world then - but here, in the plain light of day, Charles felt much more hesitant about what he said and how he acted around Elsie. He thought it might have been something to do with the way she had looked at him during their conversation the previous night - that blazing expression had etched itself into his memory.

Whatever the reason, they ambled along side by side, close enough to brush elbows but not actually touching. Periodically, Elsie threw him funny little sideway glances that made Charles feel uncomfortably - as though she was trying to read his mind. He certainly would have liked to know what she was thinking. Elsie's face was moulded into such a perfect, neutral mask that it was impossible to get any idea what was happening inside of her head.

Not that this was anything new. Charles hardly ever had any idea what was going on inside of Elsie's head, even when she didn't appear to be actively trying to conceal it.

When they arrived at the saloon – which was doubling as a chapel this morning - Elsie peered through the window and made a face.

"We're late, everyone's sitting down," She reported, "we'll be awful disruptive if we go waltzing in there now. Best wait 'til the next hymn."

Charles shrugged one shoulder. "Alright." He looked at her from the corner of his eye, watching as she toyed absently with a single copper ringlet that stubbornly refused to stay tucked behind her ear.

Charles wondered if she realised how often she seemed to be walking around with a shield raised, as though she was terrified that someone might find a way into her weak spots - but right now, because she was unaware that he was watching her, Elsie had let her defences slip and in that unguarded moment she looked very small, and very sad.

"Elsie," Charles said suddenly.

Elsie jumped, startled out of her thoughts, and turned to him, "Yes?"

"I was thinking," Charles began, then stopped, cleared his throat and tried again. "That is, I thought, maybe, once we get to America…" He paused again, trying to ignore the baffled look Elsie was giving him. "What I mean to say is, I know we've not got anyone there, and we don't really know where we're going… and I know you say you're fine with that. But I, myself, would feel better if we at least stuck together. Me looking out for you and making sure everything is all right, maybe help you get used to the new surroundings and all. If that's fine with you, of course." He added hurriedly, half-afraid to see her reaction to his sudden display of chivalry.

Elsie was staring at him with an expression that Charles had never seen before. He couldn't place the emotion or meaning, he only knew that she looked absolutely thunderstruck. Charles bobbed a little on the balls of his feet, wishing she would hurry up and say something.

After a moment, Elsie shook her head and the strange, unreadable expression vanished, replaced by disbelief.

"Why Charles Carson," She said slowly, her lips curving into a smile, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were offering to look after me."

Charles laughed. "Elsie, I can't think of a single person who needs looking after less than you." Elsie folded her arms and looked as though she couldn't decide whether or not to be flattered or insulted.

To clarify he added. "You're the single most capable woman I've ever met."

Elsie gave a funny, empty-sounding little laugh. "Well, I don't know about that."

"Even so," Charles went on, choosing to ignore the self-deprecating comment, "I figured – it being a strange country, and you being alone and all – that you might want a friend nearby. Just in case," Charles shot an inquisitive look at Elsie, who was staring fixedly at the approximate level of his left knee. "Besides, I've got sort of used to having someone talking my ear off every hour of the day. I think I'd miss it if we were such a distance from each other."

For half a beat, Elsie didn't move. Then she raised her head and absolutely beamed at him. Charles had never seen her look like that, with her face so bright; it seemed a small fire had been brought to life from within.

Within that moment, he realised that there was little he wouldn't do to make her smile like that again.

Elsie, still glowing said, "Do you mean it?" Charles nodded. "Then I would like that, Charles. Very much."

"Well… all right then." Charles replied lamely. He had half expected her to say no, proud wee thing that she was, so the fact that she was still smiling that brilliant smile, and looking as though he had just handed her the moon, Charles was thrown entirely.

"Good," Elsie replied, her expression shifting into a mischievous grin; one that had become so familiar to Charles. "It's a deal. Though, if anyone needs looking after, it's bound to be you my boy-o," Elsie added playfully, thrusting out one slender hand. "So what say we just keep each other out of trouble, right? Shake on it."

Charles rolled his eyes, but nevertheless took the offered hand and shook it mock formally.

"Happy?"

Elsie nodded and tossed her curls back over one shoulder. "Perfectly," She said.

For a moment their eyes met and Charles was aware of an odd tension that seemed to stretch between them. He swallowed, unsure of what to say. Fortunately, something through the window caught Elsie's eye and she turned to look through the glass.

"Oh look, they're standing, we can go in now," when she looked back at him, Charles saw that she was rather pink in the face. Elsie shuffled her feet uncertainly. "Are you coming?"

Charles bobbed his head in confirmation and followed her into the room, where the first strains of "God Lift Me Up" were filtering through the little congregation. He sidled along the back wall, coming to a halt beside Elsie, who was now fumbling through a hymnal; trying to find the words to the song.

The morning sun through the windows caught in her hair, making it blaze like flames spun into thread. The image made Charles' breath catch and he realised, with something between amazement and alarm, that he could no longer imagine a life for himself that did not somehow include this infuriating, unpredictable and vibrant woman.

Still smiling to herself, Elsie finally settled on the correct page of her book and moved closer to Charles so that he could read over her shoulder. When she realised that he had been watching her, the smile faltered slightly.

"What?" She hissed bemusedly.

Charles shrugged. "Nothing," He said, looking at her sideways. He reached out and tucked the stray curl she had been fighting with earlier behind her ear, "Sing the pretty hymn, Els."

Elsie elbowed him in the ribs, but obediently lifted her chin and joined in with the song. Charles couldn't help but notice that she was smiling again.

* * *

The last rays of the Sunday sun intruded through the large windows, spreading across the saloon, illuminating the whole of First Class. People gathered there to drink, dine or to simply enjoy each other's company.

The voices of the many people around her breached Cora's ears; she couldn't register what everyone was talking about, and it left a fuzziness inside of her head, distracting her from her thoughts.

Her hand moved steadily, mixing the warm tea with her tea spoon. She looked at her reflection inside of the cup; getting slightly annoyed she stirred the dark liquid roughly, messing up her reflection.

"Cora, are you even listening to me?"

It was lunch hour and the dining saloon was, as usual, buzzing with the conversation of hundreds of people, the clatter of dishes and cutlery, the scrape of chairs against the floor. Cora, raising the tea spoon from her tea shook it against the porcelain cup and laid it on the plate next to her - daydreaming, barely registering anything.

"Cora?"

"Yes?" Cora looked up from her tea to find both Rosamund and Robert staring at her expectantly, "Did you say something?"

Rosamund stuck out her bottom lip. "Have you not heard a single thing I've said?"

Cora thought back over the last few minutes and realised that she had not even been aware of her friend speaking.

"Um… no? Not really." She admitted sheepishly, sipping her tea.

Rosamund laughed at Cora's expression and Patrick shook his head, smiling in spite of himself.

"You've been right distracted all day Cora, what's the matter with you?" He asked, drinking from his wine glass.

"That's what I have been trying to find out for the last two days, at least." Robert whispered under his breath jokingly, raising an eyebrow. "Don't expect a reasonable answer, by the way."

Cora shot Robert a playful sideways glance before turning to Patrick again.

"Nothing's the matter," Cora said with a forced grin, swallowing hard. "I was just thinking about some… things."

"I told you." Both Robert and Patrick cracked into laughter while they toasted to Robert's prediction.

"Anyway," Rosamund said breaking the odd tensions that reigned around the table, "I was talking about your necklace." She gave a sigh, "It's extravagant, but..."

"Thank you," Cora gave a genuine smile, ignoring her husband and his cousin as much as she could. Her slender fingers travelled up to touch the heavy gem around her throat once again, remembering the very moment Robert had placed it around her neck; the fiery touch of his fingers brushing against her flesh, their eyes locked forever in one another's through the mirror, nothing had mattered in that moment but them. Cora fingertips touched the necklace's cool surface. It was gentle with no sharp edges, yet hard and cold - a perfect paradox.

"But what?" Cora continued, reality pulling her from her thoughts.

"You know that... this diamond is believed to carry bad luck." Rosamund said, her emerald eyes looking directly at the deep blue gem, but with absolutely no desire to get near it. "Well, that's what I've heard."

"Don't tell me you believe in stories like that?" Robert joined the conversation, chuckling at the thought. "That's just a thing people say to make it more intriguing, more mysterious - to raise its price."

Cora looked in bewilderment from Robert, then to Rosamund who sat across the table.

"I-I didn't know that." Cora murmured, her hand carefully moving away from the necklace.

"Don't believe it." Robert said reassuringly, sipping his wine and clenching his wife's hand under the table. "And Rosamund, don't fill her head with unimportant things."

"I'm not," Rosamund giggled and returned her attention to the half empty glass of alcohol that was laid before her, "I thought she knew."

"I have heard something about that too," Patrick came in to Rosamund's defence, and Robert rolled his eyes in annoyance. "That's why I'd think twice before buying it." Patrick continued.

"And what did you exactly hear, Mr Crawley?" Rose, who had been silent for most of the conversation, raised her gaze from her plate and looked at the young boy who was sitting next to her, curiosity flashing within her blue eyes.

"Well," He changed the intonation of his voice suddenly; now that a young girl had expressed an interest in him. "I've heard that the diamond was stolen many centuries ago from a temple in India. Since then, everyone who has worn it has died a slow and agonising death."

The sentence made chills run down Cora's spine and the blood drained from her face. She shook her head, trying to ignore all of the awful comments about her gift - Robert had given her this out of love, to show her his affections. She felt her nerves tingle as though they were being tickled with a small feather.

Robert once again laughed at Patrick's words and muttered. "Nonsense."

"Just saying," Patrick put his hands up in defence, giggling along with the others. He wanted to speak up again, but Cora's piercing gaze caught his attention.

Cora stared at Patrick who sat across from her. Just stared. Nothing else, yet she could feel her pulse beating in her ears, blocking out all other sounds, except for her ragged breath that fell out of her mouth at regular, gasping intervals.

As the weird glances were exchanged between the two, the odd tensions also pulled Robert's attention to her. He looked at Cora and could sense her nervousness, she was fidgeting with her napkin, but she didn't lessen her gaze.

"Darling, don't worry." Robert brushed his hand up and down her arm, until she leaned back against the chair and exhaled deeply. "It's just a sensational story created by journalists in the late 1800s to sell the newspapers." He continued tenderly.

"I didn't mean to scare you, Cora. I'm really sorry." Patrick said sincerely, his attention focused on the woman across from him.

She gave a weak smile, avoiding his gaze. "Oh no, you didn't scare me." She exhaled once more for a theatrical effect. "It's alright. Everything's just fine."

"Drink something, it'll for sure distract you from all of this talk." Rosamund said cheerfully as the waiter approached with another full bottle of wine. He started filling everyone's glasses, until he came near Cora who placed her palm over the crystal glass in protest, stopping him.

She stretched her fingers, not having total control over her hands. They were shaking in an odd trembling rhythm.

"Tea is just enough for me." She eyed the waiter, her face showing no desire for any kind of alcohol.

Rosamund tilted her head to the side, the action didn't escape her notice. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully even as she helped herself to the various sweetmeats and cheeses laid before her.

"However you wish." Rosamund said casually, but Cora could still see that she was analysing her.

A strange atmosphere was left to float around the saloon, but it was soon dissipated once a young boy, no older than twenty, came running to the table. He carried a piece of paper, his face mortified. With hurried steps the boy stopped next to Captain Smith who sat next to Rosamund, peacefully enjoying the company and his meal in silence.

"Sir," The boy said breathlessly, "another ice warning." He handed the telegram to the older man. "This one is from the _Baltic_."

"Thank you, boy." Smith said unfolding the paper, glancing at the message then nonchalantly placing it into his pocket. Seeing that everyone had their eyes on him, he nodded reassuringly to the group.

"Not to worry, it's quite normal for this time of the year. In fact we're spreading up. I've just ordered the last boilers lit." Smith gave a wide grin, but still seeing the worried boy next to him, he rolled his eyes and said, "but I'll go and look at the situation."

"It really isn't anything serious?" Cora murmured, looking directly at the man who stood up and fixed his new white suit.

"No, not at all." Smith gave a half smile. "The young boy is just inexperienced and everything scares him. It's his first great voyage." He nodded his head before he politely excused himself from the room.

But still his words did nothing to lessen her fears - everyone had heard the stories about how grand ships sailed into deep abysses because they'd hit an iceberg; never to be seen again... but then she remembered; the Titanic was supposed to be unsinkable, so why worry?

She let out a deep sigh, trying to push unimportant things out of her mind.

"Mr Andrews," Cora said calmly, looking to the other end of the table, "today when we were strolling down the deck I did a sum in my head, and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned..." Cora paused, bringing her hands on the table, clearly more intrigued with the conversation. "Forgive me, but it seems that there are not enough for everyone aboard."

"About half, actually." The gentleman said casually and started drawing invisible circles with his finger on the table, his eyes quite avoiding hers - Cora analysed his every movement.

"You miss nothing, do you?" Andrews flashed a small smile and gazed directly at her. "In fact, I put in these new type davits, which can take an extra row of boats on deck." He replied contritely, once again looking down at his drink, swirling his wine briefly before raising it to his lips and taking a small sip. "But it was thought... by some, that the deck would look too cluttered. I was overruled."

"Waste of deck space as it is," Cal decided to join the conversation, slamming his whiskey glass briefly against the hard wooden table. "The Titanic is an unsinkable ship."

"Sleep soundly Cora," Ruth, who sat next to her, patted her hand gently, "If something even happens, First Class is always going to be safe first, so no worries."

Cora made a face, not believing what she had just heard. She froze in disbelief, paralysed by Ruth's words. Carefully she withdrew her hand from Ruth's grip. The woman next to her talked from above, proudly, like the lives of other people who weren't them didn't matter in the slightest. But what was Cora even expecting from snobs like that. People of that class and era knew nothing but a life of opulence and grandeur.

"Cora," Robert whispered, making her instantly turn around to face him. "Is something bothering you? Something I should know?" He watched her as her hands travelled from the table into her lap, where she clenched them together.

She swallowed back, trying hard to control her temper and forced a smile across her face.

"No, nothing at all. Everything is perfectly fine." But Robert could sense it, in her expression, in the tone of her voice, inside her eyes - something wasn't right.

"Good because they're all talking nonsense, darling." He tenderly brushed a stray curl behind her ear, and she shuddered under his touch.

"If someone is getting on your nerves, just tell me and we'll throw them overboard." Robert gave her a half smile whilst gently caressing her hand once again. His eyes sparkled as he watched his wife break into laughter, her cold façade shattering like broken glass into a million pieces.

"Deal." Cora flashed an ear to ear grin, the one that he adored, and stroked his arm gently.

Needing nothing more than the return of Cora's good mood to prompt an enthusiastic notice, Rose squealed for at least the fifth time that evening and clapped her hands together.

"Look over there!" She exclaimed gleefully over the chatter of Rosamund and Patrick. "There's the Countess, Rothes. And that's John Jacob Astor with his little wifey, Madeleine. She's my age and in a delicate condition." Rose pauses, examining the girl nearby once more, putting her curly hair behind her ear. "See how she's trying to hide it. Quite a scandal."

"Rose!" Ruth barked, either because she thought that the cheery redhead had finally taken things too far, or because she had noticed the look that had suddenly appeared on Cora's face. Rose snapped her mouth closed and stared wide-eyed, while her mother glared daggers at her.

"Have you no sense at all? Think about what you're saying in polite company." She continued sharply.

If this was an odd comment for Rose to make, Cora hardly registered it, distracted as she was by the feeling that her stomach had just plummeted out of her body. _Delicate condition_. Oh God, how had she so suddenly forgotten about _that_? That one all-important, all-consuming detail of her life, the one thing that any partner with a long lasting relationship of any kind needed to know, and the one thing that she had never told anyone. Not even Robert. Most of all not Robert.

Still, Cora rallied with remarkable speed, given the way these thoughts were now parading through her head. She built another defensive façade, forced a smile back onto her face and casted a level gaze at her companions.

"What are you gawping at?" She asked Rosamund, doing an admirable job of sounding unruffled.

Rosamund threw a pointed look at Cora, who looked like she was about to start weeping.

"Cora you just… turned sort of pale," Rosamund replied slowly. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine," Cora said, a little more loudly than she had intended. She could tell that neither of her friends were entirely convinced, but, for once, fate seemed to be on her side because at that exact moment the waiters came back into the saloon and started clearing dishes for the next seating.

"Guess we better shuffle off then, right?" Cora said, pointing at the white-coated men weaving through the tables, and silently thanking God for the welcome distraction.

"Sure," Rosamund said, still eyeing Cora suspiciously. "You want to head to the General Room?"

"Oh yes," Rose leaped on the suggestion with undisguised relief. "They will probably play music tonight."

That was the last place Cora wanted to be, in a hot, noisy, smoke-hazed General Room, with its crush of bodies and chaos. Her mind was whirring with such violence that she almost felt dizzy. She needed someplace quiet, someplace where she could just _think_ for five minutes, please God, without someone asking if she was alright.

"You go," Cora said, "I need to go to my room for… a minute."

"I'll come with you too," Rosamund offered immediately, obviously thinking that Cora had taken ill, "In case you need me."

"No, no, that's fine, I'm fine," Cora assured her, already backing away from the table, drawing a concerned look from Robert. "Go on to the party, I'll catch you up."

She hurried away before they could protest further, or before Robert could try and stop her. Dodging around the lines of people filling in and out of the dining saloon, Cora half-ran to her cabin, berating herself the entire way. How could she let her emotions get out of control just like that? Sure it was all well and good until they mentioned it - and it was all fine to hope that no one would notice what had been going on with her - but constant indicators just kept drawing attention back to her. Was she really that weak? Not even able to keep a secret until they arrived to America? Could they really read her like an open book? What happens then?

Cora burst into her room with the force of a small explosion, eliciting a startled yelp from Elsie, who had been preparing Cora's dress for tomorrow, and who had obviously given the silk sleeve a surprised pull upon Cora's sudden appearance, because the dress was now laying on the floor. Cora stared at her stupidly, not saying a word; she had expected to find the room empty.

Elsie cocked her head to one side. "M'lady? What's the matter?"

Not really registering what Elsie had said, but catching concern in the tone of her words, Cora attempted a reassuring smile, even as she dashed across the room to retrieve her coat.

"Mrs Hughes, I'm just… going for a walk." Cora couldn't stay in the room now, not with Elsie there, so she threw her coat around her shoulders as she dashed back to the door, and with the sole desperation to get away from people she didn't even bother to grab her hat or gloves.

"My lady," Elsie let go of the dress she had picked up and caught Cora by the arm, clearly alarmed by her behaviour. "Are… are you quite…" she shook her head in frustration, surprised by her own actions and not even sure what she wanted to ask. Elsie gestured helplessly with both hands, as though trying to sketch her meaning in the air.

Realising that something of her mental turmoil must be showing on her face, Cora understood what the other woman was trying to say. Taken by surprise that Elsie had stopped to take her hand, and cared enough to sense that something was wrong with her, Cora found herself smiling again.

"I'm fine. I'm good."

She wished that she could explain better what was wrong, but she couldn't. Elsie, apparently catching her meaning, nodded and smiled in a relieved sort of way. Cora patted her on the shoulder and continued out of the room.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Cora rubbed a hand across her eyes and wondered how many people she was going to tell that same lie.


	19. Degrees of Cold

**A/N:** _A new update in only a week, fear my powers of productivity! Actually, I totally cheated - I'm currently sick with a bad cold so I had time to write this earlier. Just... don't get used to this kind of speediness; it may never happen again. But anyway, here's the next chapter. This is what comes from having characters who constantly run amok on you. I just don't question them anymore. But actually, this chapter is the reason I ended up writing this fic so, um yeah this one should be interesting!_

 _Thank you so much everyone who reviewed, alerted, favourited, and sent me such lovely PMs. You guys are truly the greatest support system and I cannot thank you enough. R &R!_

 _Also, big thanks goes to_ **Courtland** _for her super betaing powers._

* * *

 **CHAPTER XIX**

 _ **Degrees of Cold**_

 _"No bad deeds goes unpaid_

 _strings of fate, never lose its raid."_

 **14, April 1912;**

"Elsie. Helloooo, Elsie? Elsie, Elsie, Elsieeee?"

"What?" Elsie distractedly looked up from her clenched fists to find Anika staring at her firmly. "Did you say something?"

"You're horrible." Anika said playfully, rolling her eyes. "I've been trying to explain this thing to you for a good five minutes now, and you're totally not interested." She said and stuck out her bottom lip, folding up the map of New York and pushing it back into her pocket.

"I'm sorry." Elsie replied sheepishly, looking at her friend who had lost all of her enthusiasm.

"You've been awfully distant for the whole evening." Genevieve jumped into the conversation, dunking a dinner roll into her soup and taking a bite.

Heaving a sigh, Elsie forced a quick smile. "Nothing that important is going through my head," Elsie gave a chuckle, "I was just thinking about my employer... and some other things."

"Things named Charles, you mean?" Genevieve muttered into her water goblet. Elsie glared at her and Genevieve stretched her hands wide in a gesture of innocence. "What? You gonna try an' tell me otherwise?"

When Elsie failed to respond, Anika giggled in delight. "Ye _were_ , weren't ye?"

There was no point in denying it. Elsie had been ten feet above the ground since mass, and she would have been crazy to think that her friends hadn't noticed. The fact was, Charles' offer to watch out for her after docking had made Elsie happier than she could have ever predicted. Just thinking about it made her smile. Glancing sideways at where Charles was sitting with his back to their table, Elsie grinned.

"Perhaps," She conceded.

Anika squeaked. "Oh, oh, Elsie, what happened? Somethin' happened, didn't it?" She bounced up and down on her seat. "Tell us, tell us!"

Elsie felt her cheeks grow warm, and she picked absently at a callous on the edge of her thumb to avoid meeting the others' eyes.

"Well… I suppose Charles felt sort of bad about the trip being over so soon because he offered to help with…"

"Eeeek!" Anika interrupted by squealing, causing Elsie to stop; she shot her a disconcerted look. Anika clapped both hands over her mouth to stifle the noise and, speaking through her fingers, asked in a high-pitched voice.

" _Did he kiss you?_ "

The question was enough to render Elsie entirely mute, so she merely sat there staring at Anika with her jaw hanging open and her face flaming. Genevieve made an exasperated sound and bopped Anika gently across the back of her head.

"Jesus God, Almighty Anika, what kind of a question is that to spring on a body?" She demanded, making Anika squawk in protest. Then, catching sight of Elsie's crimson face, Genevieve paused and added. "Wait, did he?"

"No!" Elsie finally managed to sputter, her cheeks became even warmer with embarrassment. "Christ, what is it with the pair of you? Charles and I… we're not…. I mean, we haven't… we're just _friends_."

Anika sighed in an extremely put-upon way and fixed Elsie with a maddeningly, pitying look. "Oh Elsie," she said woefully. "You're a smart girl, but sometimes you can be awfully dumb."

That was quite a statement coming from Anika. Elsie gaped at her, and then cast a bewildered glance at Genevieve. "What on earth?"

"Don't look at me," Genevieve intoned, taking a dainty bite of her roast pork, "I'm stayin' outta this."

"How can you say that you an' Charles are just friends?" Anika pressed on, still gazing at Elsie in a vaguely woebegone way. "Haven't you _seen_ the way he looks at you?"

Elsie, who had only just managed to stop gawking, felt her jaw clang open again.

"Are you completely daft? He doesn't look at me in any _way_ , he just looks at me!"

Anika sighed again and shook her head. "Well, maybe you think that," she said consolingly, reaching out to pat Elsie's hand. "But Genevieve an' me, we know diff'rent. Charles looks at you like you're the beginnin' of the world." At this point her pitying expression slipped, and she gazed dreamily off into space for a beat or two. "An' look at you, walkin' 'round like your feet don't touch the floor, just on the account of him offerin' to help you in America."

"That isn't…" Elsie began to protest, but then stopped short. Because that last part, at least, was true - and she had already decided that there was no point in acting otherwise. It wasn't such a far stretch to admit that maybe, just maybe, Elsie thought of Charles as something just slightly more than a friend. But that didn't mean that Charles had… _had_ _feelings for her_. Did it?

"You're being ridiculous," She finally finished, aware of how flat the rebuke fell.

Genevieve, despite her proclamation that she was having no part in the conversation, dabbed her lips with her napkin and said, as delicately as possible. "Ye do get awful defensive when we bring it up."

Elsie swallowed. "That's because… that's because I don't need the pair of you acting like a couple of starry-eyed, lovelorn ninnies over something that's never going to happen. And getting me all worked up as well," She added as an afterthought, "I can't go around thinking like that. I've had my heart broke once already, and I don't much care for it happening again, thank you."

"Hmmmm," Anika propped her chin on one hand and regarded Elsie with a thoughtfulness that she didn't normally seem to possess. "You believe in all sorts of other things comin' true, why not this?"

There was nothing Elsie could say to counter that. Genevieve looked impressed. "Girl's got a point," she commented, "An' besides, it seems te me that Charles must care about ye, else why would he ask te look after ye?"

For some reason this made Elsie smile. "Do you think?" She asked, daring to let a tiny edge of hope creep into her voice.

"I do, I do!" Anika chirped, bouncing in her chair again. As if to illustrate her point, Charles chose that moment to get up from his seat. He said something to his table mates and headed for the exit to the saloon. As he passed the table occupied by Elsie and her friends, he nodded a hello and flashed a brief, warm smile at Elsie. All three of them watched him until he was out of earshot before Anika made a triumphant noise.

"You see? Like you are the beginnin' of the world!" She said.

"Stop that," Elsie admonished, half-heartedly. She was grinning again; sure, the girls probably were being ridiculous, but maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to hope that something could come of her relationship with Charles. Crazier things had happened.

Elsie stared blankly into space, lost inside her thoughts once more. Her mind was still fixed on her friends words. On the _choice_ of her words. The entire time Elsie could feel her heart fluttering wildly. Charles was still cryptic and guarded, but there were no words for how she felt while looking at him, or being near him. Well, what feeling was that? Probably the best and worst feeling known to mankind - it was definitely some kind of love.

Elsie rose from the table, adrenaline and excitement rushing through her veins. She could feel the blood pumping in her ears as she suddenly excused herself from the table and left the room without another word. She left her companions behind, their eyes following her with confusion.

Elsie's brain made a quick, unanalysed move and in the blink of an eye she found herself following Charles' footsteps.

In just a few minutes, she was climbing up the very familiar stairs of the Titanic. It was a moonless night and not many strollers passed by. Elsie gasped when the cold April air wrapped around her body. The air was so much cooler, and sure it was cold, but Elsie also felt an instant relief. It was much less humid than where dinner was taking place.

As she walked over to the railing, she caught something out of the corner of her eye. There, on the other side of the railing stood a familiar figure. Under the dim lights of the Titanic Elsie could see him stubbing out his cigarette and throwing it into the calm ocean water beneath. He appeared to be in deep conversation with himself, maybe even some inner conflict. Until suddenly, Charles turned his head and spotted her.

And she froze, not really sure why. Her legs became jelly and she started to tremble - maybe from all of her emotions, or maybe from the cold, she didn't know. Perhaps she was waiting, waiting for him to make the first move, to come near her - or to call her by her pet name. Just for some sign, or anything. So Elsie waited, not really sure for what, but she did, not taking her eyes away from him.

And it felt like he had read her mind - because Charles instantly snapped out from his stupor and started walking towards her.

"What are you doing out in this cold?" Charles asked softly as he stood next to her, his voice barely audible.

"Oh just looking for a... _friend_." Elsie made a poor attempt at sounding casual, her eyes slyly avoiding his.

Seeing Elsie's silent state and trembling body, Charles decided to try a different approach. Noticing how she was hunched against the chill of the air, Charles took a blind stab at redirecting the conversation.

"Are you cold then, Els?"

Elsie threw him a sideways look, registering the use of her pet name. Perhaps this was the sign she had been waiting for. Quickly, she regained her composure and self-confidence. Charles was confusing, there was no doubt about that. If he was going to keep her guessing like this, than damned if she was going to just stand by idly and not test him right back.

Shrugging one shoulder she replied. "Not now that you've got your arm around me."

That stymied him. Looking utterly perplexed, Charles cast a glance around the deck as if to check that she was, in fact, talking to him.

"But I don't have my…" He stopped short as realisation started to sink in. Elsie twitched one eyebrow. Charles chuckled and shook his head, then to her amusement and secret delight, he obediently went to the railing and stood by her side, looping an arm around her shoulders.

"You're a funny one, Elsie Hughes."

He had called her worse, but Elsie still made a face. "Oh funny, thanks very much," she grumbled, even though she was far more amused than she was insulted. Though, any miniscule of insult she did feel at the comment didn't prevent her from snuggling closer into his comforting warmth, nor did it diminish the way that her heart was currently attempting to pound its way straight out of her body.

Charles laughed. "Don't act like you haven't heard it before," Elsie glared at him good-naturedly. "You're not like other girls and you know it."

Elsie raised an eyebrow."Oh, I'm not?"

"No," Charles replied simply, "because you come right out with what you want."

"And you find that funny, do you?" Elsie asked, shifting to look at him better. "What kind of girl do you think I am? Do you think I need te be told what I want?" She swatted him playfully. "Life's too short for that, my boy-o."

"You're right, of course," Charles said. He pulled her a little closer – Elsie promptly stopped breathing again – as he took one of her hands in his.

"Christ Elsie, you're half-froze. You shouldn't have come here."

But Elsie actually felt as though her entire body was on fire from tip to toe, but she wasn't about to say that out loud.

"Well, it is bloody damn cold out, if you've not noticed, and I was worried for my... friend."

Choosing not to comment on her last statement, Charles, instead asked. "So… this friend of yours. She have a bloke in mind then?"

"Yes, she does," Elsie said slowly, not daring to meet his eyes. She contented herself by staring at the wood grain of the deck panels until she went cross-eyed. "But I don't think he cares about her as… as you say he ought to."

She felt, rather than saw, Charles shake his head. "Oh you don't, do you?" He said, sounding oddly frustrated.

Still not looking at him, Elsie shrugged. "Oh he's fond of her and all, maybe a bit more than fond even. But I don't think he cares… like that."

"Well. Then for once in your life, you're wrong,"

And he finally stopped playing along. It was the tone of his voice more than the words that finally got Elsie to lift her head. When she saw the look on Charles' face, any response she might have made, any witty rejoinder, any ability to form coherent speech whatsoever to be honest, withered and died on her lips. Never in her entire life had anyone looked at Elsie the way Charles was looking at her then. The effect was to render her, not only speechless, but completely immobile as well, as though every synapse in her brain had started misfiring all at once.

And with the cold air, confusion, and heat raging inside of her, she was compelled to do something that wasn't at all proper, not at all appropriate, something that most likely she would curse herself for doing later. Elsie pushed herself forward, arms extended, and crashed her lips against his. She could taste the bitterness of liquor on his lips, feel the worn skin of his face, hear the sound of his snuff box hitting the floor as his arms instead wrapped around her.

This was wrong. So wrong. So horribly, terribly wrong.

But then again, how could something so wrong feel so right?

Elsie allowed her heart to lead her for the first time in so many years, and her mind didn't have a say in this decision.

She allowed herself that moment.

No matter how wrong or right it may be.

* * *

Walking briskly, Cora made it to the staircase quickly and hurried up the steps to the deck. Cora realised that this was exactly what she needed – not to curl up into a ball in her bed and whimper like a lost child, but to burn off the jittery energy of her agitated mind; so that she might actually be able to think clearly. It was what her mother would have told her to do were she back home.

" _Walk it off Cora,_ " Martha Levinson would say, sometimes laughing, sometimes stern, whenever her only daughter got into a state. It was her cure for everything: bad tempers, hurt feelings, anxiety, sadness. She would turn Cora out of doors and tell her to walk until she felt calm again. Cora, in varying degrees of agreeability, would obey, pounding the dirt roads and muddy fields around her estate, sometimes for hours, before returning home with mud-caked boots and a lighter spirit. It usually worked. _Usually_.

Here on the Titanic, Cora didn't have familiar roads and rain-soaked fields, but she had the ship's decks, and she supposed that would just have to do. So Cora walked - thanks to the possibility of dancing in the General Room, and the fact that the second dinner seating hadn't finished yet - there were very few people up on deck.

It was also extremely cold, which no doubt had kept a lot of people indoors. Cora passed next to a couple, who were sitting on a bench with their heads together over a dime novel that they were likely trying to read without their parents' knowledge. Other than those two and a few solo stragglers here and there, Cora was virtually alone, and as she marched on up to top deck, Captain Smith looked up and gave her a cheery wave before returning inside the ship again.

Barely managing a smile in return, Cora took the steps two at a time, and set out on a cyclical path around the deck. Her footfalls keeping in time with her heartbeat. Cora tried, _tried_ to reason through her tangled thoughts, to work out some way to solve her current predicament.

She immediately realised the flaw in this process: her problem wasn't coming up with a solution, her problem was that she already knew what the solution was - and the prospect was terrifying. Cora thought briefly about telling Rosamund and Elsie – a trial run, so to speak, because surely they would be easier to tell - and asking for their help, but she dismissed the idea. She knew exactly what advice they would give her because it was the same conclusion she had already drawn.

Cora stopped. She had done four laps of the deck and she knew that it was doing no good. She could walk in circles for the next three days and it wouldn't change a single damn thing. She had to tell Robert. She had to tell Robert and she didn't have the faintest idea as to how.

With a low growl of frustration, Cora aimed a kick at the lowest rung of the starboard side railings. Instead of making her feel better, all this managed to do was jam her toes painfully against the inside of her shoe. With a hiss of pain, Cora half-flung herself against the rails and buried her face in both hands.

"Cora Crawley, if you aren't the stupidest creature on two legs, I don't know who is," Cora grumbled into the sleeves of her coat. "Made a right old mess of things now, haven't you?" She kicked the railings again – a little more carefully this time – and added for good measure, "Idiot."

Cora turned around and clenched the railings again, harder this time. She put so much effort into it that her knuckles turned white and her fingers tingled from the cold metal underneath her hands.

"Idiot!" She repeated louder this time, fighting her own thoughts inside of her head. "You're acting like a damn, scared teenager. Come on, collect yourself. It can't be that awful."

But it was, it _was_ awful, maybe even more than she was ready to admit. Sure, she couldn't predict Robert's reaction, but she could still feel fear raging somewhere deep inside of her bones and soul. It was waltzing around her thoughts freely, leaving behind dreadful hours of over-thinking and sadness that stretched for days. Cora could feel her heart slowly being torn apart inside of her chest. It scared her, that level of fear, she hadn't felt it in quite some time.

As if she wasn't in enough trouble already, Cora thought, looking out over the glass-smooth water and feeling utterly wretched, she had to go and do something ridiculous like this. Letting people wonder if she was alright constantly, lying to every ones faces, ignoring a man she utterly loved from the depths of her heart, was she really going _mad_? Had she not learned anything at all?

"Apparently _not_ ," Cora said out loud, scolding herself freely. She propped her chin in her hands. "Apparently you have no sense at all."

Except that this felt different, far, far different from anything she had ever experienced before. This wasn't something she could shake or throw away, this wasn't a silly infatuation that her teenage-self would had once mistaken for love, nor something that she could just swallow and continue on with her life.

It was a new human being that she was called upon to take care of. Its movements grew as the days passed - and realisation that in just a few months time she would be a mother again - had yet to take its full effect on her. It still seemed so surreal, that within her there stirred a being. A being that would learn to crawl. To walk. To talk. A child, that for the first time they hadn't conceived out of duty. Her daughter or her son. Her kin.

Cora stopped thinking for just a moment and looked down at herself, examining her figure. Her hands fell to the spot they always seemed to be when she was alone - to her midsection -and they remained resting there. Cora couldn't help herself but to think about her baby, and allow herself a little bit of temporary happiness.

It was probably no bigger than a blackberry itself, but it was growing fast. Her stomach, once perfectly flat, now curved forward just the slightest to form the unmistakable bulge. It wasn't too big, at least, she told herself. Nothing that a good outfit of hers couldn't hide. So she did her best to conceal it underneath the waves of her dress, and a coat thrown over her shoulders for good measure.

It was a strange concept to think about, Cora still couldn't get over the idea of a being, a baby, growing inside of her, no matter how many times she thought about it, it still seemed so impossible - she was not sure what to think, or how to feel about it.

Cora was far too different a person from the foolish, flattered girl who would have allowed herself to be sweet-talked into doing trouble. Despite her constant stream of self-belittlement, Cora couldn't shake the thought that this thing with the baby was like nothing she had ever experienced before, a fear she had never known. She couldn't bear the thought that she would change everyone's futures just because she hadn't been careful enough.

But then, _why not be a bit selfish too._

It was a never ending circle of her draining thoughts, running paradoxes around one another. She couldn't fight it, nor find a proper solution to it. It would have been much different and easier if it had happened under different circumstances. She would have been completely overjoyed, but now, now she was ruled by her inner fear with absolutely no escape.

Cora was thinking and thinking, but nothing new or smarter came to her mind. In one sudden movement, Cora entangled her itching fingers within her caramel locks, feeling her headache coming rapidly.

The seconds seemed to tick by so painfully fast, and still she hadn't come to any reasonable conclusion. Cora looked up at the moonless sky; adored with millions of stars, scattered above her like diamonds, showing the universe's true beauty, power and infinity.

And in that moment she realised that it felt as if fate, or the universe itself was mocking her.

 _Fate? A cruel thing, isn't it?_ She thought silently. _It's almost always unfair._

Sometimes fate had a cruel sense of humour, giving her the thing she had always wanted at the worst time possible.

Footsteps on the deck dragged her into the present again and alerted Cora that someone was approaching. She stiffened, suspecting who it was without looking. It had to be Robert, it had to be, because who else could be so uncanny as to show up right at that very moment? It had been happening throughout the whole voyage, after all, the both of them running into each other out of nowhere; as though one had summoned the other with nothing but the power of their thoughts. This was the first time, however, that Cora was not at all pleased by the prospect of a conversation with Robert. She needed more time, desperately needed more time.

Still not looking to confirm the identity of her visitor, Cora said. "Robert, you do have the world's most impeccable timing, you know that?"

The footsteps halted. For an instant Cora feared that she had guessed wrong, and then Robert's voice said. "How on earth did you know it was me?"

"Because it's _always_ you," Cora said peevishly, her gaze still upon the black marble expanse of the ocean.

Robert wasn't dense enough to not pick up on her mood, which was probably why he kept a good foot of space between them when he came up to the rails.

"All right," he said slowly, not risking her ire by questioning her statement.

What Cora did not know was that Robert had been lying on one of the benches, having a smoke when she had come up on deck, and though she hadn't seen him there, Robert had spotted her almost immediately. He had gone to say hello to his wife, who he thought had retreated back to their room, but stopped short when he realised how positively thunderous she looked. So instead, Robert had watched first with amusement, then with growing concern as Cora circled the deck over and over, until finally she had come to a stop at the railings; looking so pathetically small and alone, and so clearly distressed that he had been unable to stand by doing nothing any longer.

"So, any reason you were trying to break your toes against the ship?" Robert asked finally. "You do know that hurts the ship far less than it hurts you?"

Cora glowered down into her crossed arms, feeling annoyed and somewhat embarrassed that he had witnessed her show of temper, and didn't answer. Her silence had less to do with Robert's comment, and much more to do with the fact that she didn't trust herself to speak. Somehow Cora felt that if she opened her mouth to say anything at all, she would end up spilling out the entire sordid story, and that wouldn't do.

Robert was eyeing her with so much obvious worry that Cora had half a mind to burst into tears. After a moment, he made a small helpless gesture with one hand.

"Well, if you don't want to talk, that's fine, sure. I cannot make you," he said and shrugged. "But I'll keep standing right here, if that's all right with you. In case you change your mind, because I'm not leaving you alone again."

For the first time since he had shown up, Cora looked at Robert properly. He was leaning against the railings, inspecting the moonless sky, but when he realised that she had stopped scowling at her heel, he dared to look her way again.

Their eyes met and Robert offered her a hesitant smile. Cora, with a sudden lump in her throat, quickly averted her gaze once more. She didn't know how he did that. Robert always showered her with pretty words or exorbitant praise. In fact, Robert spent every waking moment telling her how wonderful she was, informing her that there wasn't the slightest bit the same woman on the entire earth like her.

And yet Robert could look at her and smile that way and Cora felt like the centre of the universe. She wondered if he had any idea of the effect he had on her. And if she told him her secret – when she told him –would he look at her that way ever again?

Maybe he would want nothing to do with her - for he was so happy right now, with how everything within their family had turned out so perfectly; how it was all finally settled, but now that would be ruined because of her - and she wouldn't blame him in the slightest.

"You know full well it's all right with me if you stay," Cora replied quietly, once again resting her chin on her folded hands. Robert inclined his head in her direction, and then went back to his contemplation of the darkness beyond the railings. Though, Cora could sense him keeping an eye on her from the side of his vision. She wished he would stop; it was only making her feel worse.

"Darling." He murmured seriously, and she shuddered at the tone of his voice, wondering what he would say next.

"Tell me truthfully, is everything alright?" Robert questioned firmly and took a step closer to his wife. He was fighting a sudden urge to pull her into his embrace, to protect her from the world; to take away whatever it was that was obviously bothering her. But no, he couldn't do that right now - because he felt that she was mentally preparing herself to say something important. And he would wait. Like he always did.

"No," She finally said in a shallow voice. Her response was low, barely audible, but her words were truthful for the first time in God knows how many days. "No," She repeated firmly this time, while taking a deep intake of breath. "Not at all."

And Robert wasn't sure if this was the answer he had been expecting her to say or not. Of course, he could sense that something was wrong and that something had been bothering her badly, but without her confirmation he'd lived in ignorance, an illusion maybe, thinking that he was just being an overprotective, annoying husband towards her - and that things weren't as bad as they had first seemed. But with Cora now saying it almost immediately, and repeating it with more and more confidence, he knew now that her state wasn't just a fragment of his imagination.

Cora realised somewhere in the back of her mind, with an uncomfortable jolt in the pit of her stomach, that she was not getting out of this conversation without telling Robert the truth - not now when she had finally taken the first step. She could try passing her behaviour off as severe homesickness, but Robert wouldn't buy that for a second, and besides, lying to him now would be entirely unfair. Stringing Robert along, letting him believe that she was something she wasn't would be cruel and selfish, beside he was the father of the child within her.

Cora could practically hear her mother all the way back in America, wagging her finger and saying. " _Cora Levinson, if you care about this man you'll tell him what he needs to know, or so help you I'll box your ears._ "

And Cora smiled weakly at the thought of her mother, she could picture her right in front of her, saying all of it right now - and she _was_ right. Cora _did_ care about Robert, more than she had ever wanted or expected to. But what the hell was she supposed to say? _So Robert, darling, everything is completely crazy... And I'm also a wee bit pregnant. Surprise!_ Cora squeezed her eyes closed and groaned inwardly. She was doomed, completely doomed.

"Cora," Robert said gently, startling her out of her despairing thoughts, "If you sink any lower against those railings, you're going to be on the floor sweetheart." Obligingly, Cora straightened up a little bit, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her coat to keep them warm. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze.

Robert sighed and slid a little closer to her. "So," he said, still in the same soft voice, unsure if he should push her to talk about her problems or to stay silent. "That's a far off look I'm seeing in your eye, darling. What far off place is it you're looking at? America, or England?"

A bit of both, Cora decided, pursing her lips; because what had happened in one place and what might happen in the other were directly responsible for the way she was behaving now. Cora rubbed the bridge of her nose, seeking desperately for some way to put her thoughts into words. Robert waited patiently, being careful not to seem as though he was putting any pressure upon her to speak. The effort wasn't lost on Cora. She looked at him gratefully, taking in his would-be casual posture and the way that concern tightened the corners of his mouth, the line of his brow. Cora took a deep breath, held it to the count of five and let it out again. _The hell with it_ , she thought steeling herself; here goes nothing, or everything.

"If you must know," Cora began slowly, choosing each word carefully, "I was thinking about a friend of mine. A _very_ dear friend," She paused here and glanced at Robert to see if he was listening – he was, a touch of curiosity, along with concern was written all over his face – then she flicked her gaze back down to her hands. "It seems that she has found something unexpected along the way, and it's hard for her to keep it a secret anymore. It's a..." Cora had to pause again, this time because her mouth had suddenly become very dry. She swallowed hard. "A _thing_ that she couldn't just get rid of."

It took the space of about five heartbeats for Robert to decipher her meaning - she was using friend when she really meant herself. When he realised what she was telling him, the effect was immediate. His eyes widened a fraction and Cora heard him draw in a quick, sharp intake of breath before he backed away from her, a good foot or two along the rails. Though she kept her face perfectly impassive, Cora felt her heart plummet somewhere into the region of her stomach.

"You're with _child_?" Robert managed to say slowly, making a valiant effort to sound offhand. Cora looked at him sharply, but he did not meet her gaze. Instead, his gaze fell to her hand which had once again made its way to her stomach. She had done the same thing numerous times when she was… "This... This can't be..." Robert muttered, looking up to meet her eyes.

That was it then. That was the end of it. Now he knew and was no doubt formulating some excuse to get the hell away from her. God knows what was going to happen once they arrived in America. He was probably going to avoid her for the remainder of the voyage, just as Cora had feared he would. The look of shock on his face, the recoil, how could she have expected anything else?

Cora closed her eyes, knowing that she couldn't bear to watch him leave, and waited for him to go. And waited. A minute passed, then two, and still there were no sounds of retreating footsteps, no sounds whatsoever.

Opening her eyes, Cora frowned and cast a surreptitious glance at Robert. The poor man looked about as shocked as she had ever seen another human being look, that was for certain. But he wasn't leaving. Cora stared, half afraid she was seeing things. She picked at a stray thread on her cuff and waited some more, shifting her weight from foot to foot to ward off the cold. Still he did not leave. In fact, if Cora was not entirely out of her mind, he seemed to be waiting for her to say something.

Completely thrown by the turn of events, Cora shot the darkness a bewildered look and tried to regroup her scattered wits. She had been so prepared for Robert to run screaming from her presence, that the possibility that he might do otherwise had seemed to her nothing more than a wisp-thin thread of foolish hope. But maybe, just maybe she _had_ underestimated him.

 _All right Robert_ , Cora thought, feeling her lost hope spark again, somewhere deep within her chest: _surprise me._

* * *

 **Ooh two cliffhangers in only one chapter! I had difficulty in trying to figure out how to make the kiss work, so I hope I did an okay job. Well? What do you think? And how will Robert take this little bundle (pun intended) of news? I was thrilled by the number of reviews I received for last chapter so I wrote an extra long chapter for you guys because you all deserved it. It'd mean so much to me if you reviewed. Every feedback helps and it only takes a little bit of your time. Anyway, enough of my review talk, hope you enjoyed this chapter! I have so much more excitement planned and I cannot wait to write it and see what you guys think.**


	20. End of an Era

**A/N:** _Oh wow, this took an inexcuseably long time to post. Really, I'd intended to have this up last week, but I guess because I'd left the story in such a_ comfortable _place, I just got a tad lazy. My bad. Of course, I could also use the excuse that I'm really not looking forward to the next few chapters. Well... I am actually, but I'm also dreading it because...well...just because. Anyhow, here's one last chapter to wrap up Sunday on Ye Oulde Titanic, and yes, now you should be worried. Very, very worried. But in the meantime, enjoy some fluff 'cause it's pretty much the last you'll be getting. Eh heh. Don't blame me, blame history._

 _Also, I want to formally thank all of you who patiently waited, reviewed, and massaged me to see if everything's fine - thank you for being the most fabulous support system of writer/reviewers ever. And, of course, I have to give my usual thanks to **Courtland** for being so amazingly supportive, encouraging, and simply the best beta._

 _Also, the_ Unsinkable Glory _is officially over one hundred words long. Which actually is alarming to me. Anyhow, here is the chapter, hope it doesn't disappoint!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER XX**

 _ **End of an Era**_

 _"Written in the stars,_

 _the midnight sky writes our history,_

 _Embrace the power of perfection,_

 _we are covered in mystery."_

 **14, April 1912;**

Was this really happening, right now... this moment; was it even real? It had to be. The proof of what she had just said stood right in front of her - Robert - who looked about as shocked as Cora had ever seen another human being look just stood there, and she couldn't bear to watch him leave, so she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Cora slouched against the rails, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth.

Cora Crowley was officially at a loss of how to properly tackle a situation, this day just loved throwing more and more curve balls at her. She let out a deep sigh, it was time to collect herself, after all, this kind of stress wouldn't be good for her or their new addition right now.

' _New addition_ ', She thought quietly to herself with a sardonic chuckle. A new addition for folks around her and Robert's age should be having a grandchild, not a new child of their own. Cora was never one to ask the question ' _why me?_ ' but right now that was all that was going through her head.

' _Why couldn't this have been Mary?!_ 'Admittedly, Mary was an unwed, young woman, but still she would take a grandchild out of wedlock over her current dilemma any day. Cora stopped herself from over-thinking; taking in a deep breath while at the same time trying to collect herself. _Great job you're doing at trying to stay stress free_ … She reprimanded herself silently.

During all this time Robert was still staring at her speechlessly; his gaze reaching past her as he looked out into the blank space in front of him. Every once in a while he reminded himself that he had to blink when he felt his eyes tingle - eventually he shut his eyes, closing away the view that stood before him. Everything around him was utterly silent. Robert suddenly felt overwhelmed; his eyes shot open, his heart pounding inside of his chest, he could feel the blood in his ears, and his breathing hitched.

 _Was it true?_ A small voice in the back of his mind rang, _or is she teasing me?_

Robert swung her words over and over inside of his head, he hated being so silent, not being able to voice his words the way he wanted to; but really was he wrong for feeling this way? Surely anyone would be just as shook as he was if they were faced with their current predicament.

And then it came to his mind: _She's fooling me, just so we don't have to talk about her real problems. She wants to distract me, right. Wonderful..._

Cora stayed silent, her eyes still tightly closed, feeling very afraid and very lonely - she knew what she was going to see once she opened her eyes: a look of utter shock, of course, but still when she heard no footsteps, nor any indications of him leaving, she found enough courage to open her eyes and look at him properly... and, _wait_ was he really laughing now?! _No_ , he was not laughing at her right now!

"Robert, _REALLY_?" Cora asked far too loudly, but she needed him to take this seriously.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but you're going to have to come up with something better than that to fool me." Robert breathed out while laughing, "But good try, nonetheless. I _almost_ bought it."

He knew he shouldn't be laughing at his wife - but surely she was just having a bad headache like the last time he had checked. "So are you feeling better now?"

Cora didn't mutter a thing, just stared at him in disbelief and gave an exasperated sigh. The giggles continued, and she was fed up now. If she had known breaking it to him would be like this, then she would have just out right told him earlier to have allowed him to get past all of this laughter.

" _Robert_ …" She said with a warning tone, her face serious.

Noticing the strange intonation of her voice - the one she used not very often - he stopped smirking and his face visibly dropped as he saw her unreadable expression.

 _She was not joking_ , and with that thought his eyes became even wider. She practically heard Robert's jaw clang open. Cora met his stare for a moment, then looked away. Robert, likewise, dropped his gaze to his hands.

Cora still could not quite believe that Robert had yet to give any indication that he was looking for a way to escape, but still he said nothing. As she stared in utter disbelief, there was an uncomfortable silence between them, and then it occurred to her that she might be taking too long to say something. This might be a window of opportunity for her in this situation, one that she was going to lose if she stood there with her jaw hanging open for much longer.

Cora chewed her lower lip for a moment; then tentatively she slid a little closer to him. When this small movement did not cause him to recoil in disgust, Cora moved closer still, so that they were almost elbow to elbow.

Robert considered this for a long while, so long that Cora thought she might shake him if he didn't speak up soon. Emboldened by this reaction, Cora said, "For God's sake say something!" Losing her patience, she almost snapped at him, startling him from his current stupor.

"Cora... I..." Robert replied breathlessly, feeling slightly stupid for not being able to formulate a normal sentence, but his brain wasn't working properly at the moment. All he could do was stare speechlessly at his wife and hope to recover soon from her statement.

Cora's blood froze at his reaction, his words were toneless and she couldn't figure out his facial expression - it was emotionless, like it was built of cement, but his lips moved every once in a while to utter her name breathlessly into the darkness.

"Cora, _how_..." Robert looked sheepish, and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.

Recovering from his sudden shock, realisation dawned upon Robert - he finally found his voice and stumbled upon what little courage he had left. Robert knitted his eyebrows together and looked at her sharply.

"How did _this_ happen?" Robert said with a dry twist of his mouth.

"I think you know damn well." Cora answered almost instantly raising both of her eyebrows at him, not believing what she had just heard.

The feeling of embarrassment immediately washed through him, he felt stupid for asking such an obvious thing.

"Sorry..." Robert murmured just above a whisper, his words could barely be understood.

"Silly me." He added carefully. This time Robert gave her a startled glance, but when Cora met his eyes, she could have sworn that a tiny smile flickered across his face.

All they could do was stare at each other, Robert in shock, Cora with tears forming in her eyes. Robert knew he needed to cut the crap with his laughter and shock as soon as he saw the first tear fall. He had to recover himself, because he hated it, he hated seeing his beautiful Cora cry; especially over something like this. Because this, this was something to be taken seriously now that he knew what had been really going on with her.

"Shh, shh darling, come here," He whispered as he opened his arms wide and embraced her.

Cora wrapped herself around her husband - letting Robert pull her closer against his chest. She could feel his strong hands stroking her back all the way up to her hair as she let the day's pent up feelings spill over onto his shoulder.

"I don't know what we're going to do, Robert," Cora heaved a sigh, looking not the slightest bit comforted. She sobbed out, gripping his shirt.

All Robert could do was hold her tighter, letting her know that he was right there and that he was always going to be there no matter what. While this was one trying situation, they had been through worse, and a baby would never classify as a bad thing. As Cora always said to him, " _every baby is a blessing._ " And that was exactly what theirs would be once her nerves settled.

Robert absently stroked her hair and moved a stray curl behind her ear.

"Are you really certain?" He finally ventured, a vague hope blossoming within his chest.

"As certain as anyone can be." Cora muttered, her head resting lightly on his chest. She knew he was scared, he didn't need to say it, she could detect it in the sound of his voice, in his body movements and hand gestures. Cora could also hear his heart; it sounded as though it was going to jump out of his chest. It all made her feel uneasy, but having him so close to her and giving her his support made her feel grateful.

Robert could also feel the worry seeping into his bones as the moment washed over him, but he needed to be strong for his wife.

"Look at me, sweetie, how far along are you?" He said as he put his hand under her chin, raising her head up, meeting those piercing sapphire eyes.

Cora wiped away more tears before answering. "Around two months… maybe more."

"Well that's good, that's good to know," Robert couldn't help but wipe away the rest of her stray tears, watching closely as she gave him a small smile at the loving act, and he instantly returned that cheesy smile of his.

"See, there's my girl!"

That got a chuckle out of her, Robert was on the right track now. He decided to pull her closer to him once more, wrapping his arms around her waist; trying his best to make her feel as secure as possible.

Robert also felt foolish, even guilty - _how didn't I realise it earlier_ \- the question echoed inside of his head over and over again. There was a small knot forming inside of his stomach, like a snake was slithering there.

There was a small voice in the back of his head that he could no longer deny - not because he wasn't happy about their little creation growing inside of Cora, but because he was disappointed in himself.

Now when he connected the dots it all seemed so obvious, he had been utterly blind. Robert remembered how he had immediately noticed when she had been pregnant with any of the girls in the past - her behaviour had changed as well as her appearance. But this time, there had been so many other things going on that he had missed all of the clues. Maybe he had never expected it to happen again, especially now, so he had just excluded the option, it never even crossed his mind.

She was his wife after all, and he really should have known it earlier. Robert knew her down to the depths of her soul, their essences were connected as though they were a constellation, destined. He knew her. He should have known.

"We're fine now though, aren't we, all three of us?" Robert asked her, trying his best to give her his cutest grin.

This time Cora let out a genuine laugh, yes they were fine, but the ' _all three_ ' part was something she was really having to wrap her mind around because this was really happening, whether she liked it or not.

"So you're alright with this… everything?" She said in a forced, bright tone, as though this wasn't the most important thing she had ever asked another living person. She questioned him suspiciously, looking him right in the eye.

"Darling, I think the question here is are _you_ alright with this?" He asked her, reaching up to stroke her caramel curls again.

"If you want the truth, Robert, yes I'm fine - but I don't feel fine right now, I'm just… I'm just too worried," Cora answered, snuggling herself closer to him. She didn't know what to feel, she was honestly numb.

"That's understandable, honey. This is a lot to take in considering the-"

"Circumstances," She said, finishing his sentence for him. "The circumstances are that we didn't plan this, Robert! And this could mess everything up, and we're not twenty anymore, and-and-"

"And we're going to be just fine, especially you and peanut in there," Robert reassured her while poking lightly at her belly.

"Peanut?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, peanut! It's no larger than that." He smiled that large, charismatic smile as he continued to brush her hair out of the way of her face.

All Cora could do was return that smile. Why had she ever worried about telling him to begin with, when the real person who was worried to death here was her. But still, she didn't want him getting too attached.

"A nickname already," She shook her head with a sad smile.

"What, you got something better then?" Robert asked, tickling her side playfully.

Cora pulled his hand away and held it in both of hers, she needed him to understand that this wasn't an automatic given that this pregnancy would stick, for a lack of better words.

"Don't get too attached, Robert. I'm forty-three and while this isn't completely uncommon for a woman my age, miscarriage is still the biggest possibility here…" Cora told him in a small voice, letting her words drift off.

Robert was hit with the realization- she was more worried about him and his feelings than she was of herself; always the realist, always putting others before herself. He could only shake his head in fondness, he knew this was a genuine issue, hell an issue with any pregnancy, but especially hers.

"You can tell me not to get attached over and over again, Cora, but as long as we have this baby nothing's going to stop me from loving it. No matter how unreal this seems, that's our child we made together in there, and that makes me love our peanut even more."

Unexpectedly, Robert lifted her clear off the deck, catching her off guard, and swung her around in one joyous circle while the both of them laughed like delirious fools.

Cora could feel the waterworks hitting her again - _damn it, am I already hormonal?_ \- she cursed mentally. Cora felt warm all over as Robert put her down and kissed her forehead, running his hand softly over her stomach in circles. Her feet touched the floor in only the most literal sense; she felt like she was a hundred feet in the air.

"You do mean it, don't you? You're really, truly happy?" She asked again and sighed, still feeling slightly surreal. Cora started twining her fingers together fretfully. Robert noticed this and took her hands into his, stopping the anxious movement.

Instantly, Robert smiled reassuringly at her. "Every word." He gave her hands another squeeze and brought them to his lips, leaving there a tender kiss. Robert cupped her face in both hands, tilting her chin up so that he could look her in the eye. "I really truly am, darling." Robert planted another light kiss atop her curls, and spent a moment brushing his fingers through the loose part of her hair. "Cora… have you told them yet?"

"Told who?" Cora asked, too distracted by how content she was to follow his trail of thought. She glanced up at him and he twitched one eyebrow. The penny dropped.

"Oh… you mean…" She trailed off and ran one hand over her stomach. Robert nodded and looked vaguely amused. "No, not yet."

This seemed to come as a surprise to Robert. He frowned a little. "Don't you think you ought to?" He asked gently.

Cora sighed. "Yes. And I will, tomorrow. Something to look forward to," She flashed him a wry little smile. "Though, compared to telling you, it'll be plain easy."

Robert returned the smile. "Everything will be fine. They'll be shocked, but fine. Hell, Rosamund will probably start to cry again and ask you to name it after her." They chuckled, remembering how it was when they told her about Sybil.

"Almost certainly," Cora agreed gratefully. She chewed her lower lip, "but I don't really know how they'll take it in."

"Just fine," Robert said firmly. "Well, it didn't scare me off at least, did it?" He added, absently tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb.

Cora grinned in spite of herself and turned to face him. "No," she said, standing on tip toe and giving him a kiss on the cheek, "I guess not," She grinned and her hands travelled up his chest to link themselves behind his head.

"I love you more than anything, you know." Cora breathed against the side of his face as they pressed their foreheads together.

"I know," He smirked, but cut in real quick before he received another shoulder slap, "but I love both of you more, you know."

They laughed together at that, and gently pressed their lips together, until once more there was nothing but sweet kisses connecting them.

This wasn't going to be easy, nothing in life ever comes easy - they've learned that by the way of very hard and public lessons; but who knows, maybe this was one of those miracle second chances.

* * *

Fortunately, this seemed to be a brilliant stroke of luck for Charles, who, taking advantage of Elsie's rare moment of stunned silence, tilted her face up to his and gently, very gently pressed his lips to hers. As kisses went, there was nothing particularly spectacular about this one. It was light and soft and over quickly, certainly not the passionate, lingering, romance like novel kiss that young girls giggled about with their friends. Except, Elsie thought, that it was Charles. Charles kissing her, and Charles looking at her like that, and as far as Elsie was concerned that made it extraordinary.

They broke apart after scant seconds; the freezing air rushed in to fill the gap between their bodies. Elsie, after waiting a couple of beats for her lungs to start working properly, gasped.

"I suppose it's possible that I was mistaken."

The corners of Charles' mouth twitched. Their faces were still very close together; Elsie could make out individual eyelashes, the faint lines of humour around his eyes.

"You suppose?" Charles repeated, lightly brushing his fingertips against her rosy cheek.

Elsie swallowed and tried to appear unruffled by his proximity and his touch.

"Yes, I do," she managed to say, her voice pitched just slightly higher than normal, "It does happen, you know. Very occasionally mind, but still…"

"Elsie?" Charles' hand had slipped under her hair to the back of her neck, hot and cool all at once. "Have I ever told you that you talk too much?"

"You've maybe mentioned it once or twice," Elsie admitted weakly.

"Mmmhmm," was Charles' only reply before he had once again covered her mouth with his.

It was a longer kiss this time, and deeper, and Elsie, slightly over the shock of the first one, felt her body respond in kind. Her hands, previously hanging limply at her sides, travelled up his chest to link themselves behind his head, and she leaned closely into the warmth of his body. Then, out of nowhere, a terrible thought occurred to her and she broke away.

"Wait," Elsie said, distinctly breathless, "Charles, you do understand what's been happening between us the whole voyage, right?"

Charles looked at her with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement. "I'm… pretty sure I caught the meaning, yes."

Elsie couldn't seem to reconcile this thought. "But… then… why're you… are _we_ bloody insane?" She demanded, backing away a bit from him, hit by realisation.

"Ah, right," Charles smirked and shook his head, "Elsie, do not complicate this, though I know how much you like to do so." He added with a chuckle - Elsie looked at him sideways, giving a slight nod of her head.

"Good." He added with satisfaction.

Elsie stared. She stared for a full minute before something very close to a sob erupted from her throat and she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into the collar of his coat. Charles, though rightly startled, put his arms around her and held her there for several minutes.

"Oh Charles," Elsie whispered, when she found she could speak again, "I can't believe this is really happening!"

Charles gently pried her off of him and planted a soft kiss on her forehead, right at the edge of her hairline.

"Finally," he said with a little smile. Elsie could have quite happily fainted. She settled for grinning somewhat stupidly at her boots.

Tucking herself back under Charles' arm, Elsie allowed him to steer her back to the railings, where they spent a few moments staring out at the water in contented silence. Finally, Charles shifted and took both of her small cold hands into his larger warm ones.

"So, Elsie Hughes," He said, blowing on her fingers to warm them up. "What shocking and immodest thing are you going to say to me next then?"

With absolutely zero thought, with not even the slightest pause, what Elsie blurted was: "I'm going to say, ' _Charles Carson, will you marry me_ '?"

The mood shift was so dramatic that it might have been funny in any other situation. Charles leaped away from Elsie with such force that he almost tripped over himself. Elsie, on the other hand, froze in place with her eyes widened to twice their normal size; wondering what the hell had just possessed her to say something so absurd.

"For the love o' God, Elsie!" Charles burst out, positively goggling at her, "I know it's the New World we're heading to, but we haven't got there yet! Don't you leave nothing for the man to say?"

Out of the many emotions currently vying for supremacy in Elsie's body, something along the lines of indignant anger was the one that won out. Even though she knew she was scarlet from neck to hairline, she drew herself up to her full height.

"He can say yes!" Elsie exclaimed, surprising herself again. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth she knew that was precisely what she wanted, absurd or otherwise.

When Charles made no response other than to continue staring at her as though she had sprouted an extra head, Elsie deflated a little. She spun away from him, grasping the top of the railing in white-knuckled hands.

"So we'd better settle it right now." Elsie said around the catch in her throat, taking in a deep breath. Whirling back on him, she summoned every ounce of indignation and pride she had left and demanded. "Will you say yes, then?" She slammed her open palm against the top of the railing.

"Well I might as well!" Charles shot back immediately, giving the railing his own slap just to drive the point home, "I don't suppose you'd take a no anyway!"

Elsie stopped dead in her tracks. Surely she had not just heard that correctly. She was hallucinating or hearing things. Charles Carson could not possibly have just agreed to marry her. To marry her! Elsie opened her mouth, closed it, tried again.

" _What?_ " she breathed.

Charles gave her a look that was almost irritated. "You heard me," he said shortly.

Then he seemed to actually register the way she was gaping at him because a slow, bemused smile crept across his face. Elsie, seeing this, felt something give way inside of her and one hand fluttered to her mouth, a disbelieving laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep inside her. Joy as she had never known before was crashing over her like a wave, making her feel weightless, full of light.

Still looking as though he wasn't entirely sure what the hell he had just done, Charles tugged at the peak of his cap.

"Well Elsie, aren't you going to throw me down and kiss me?" He said.

Elsie did him one better. She shrieked – actually screamed loud enough that a patrolling officer on the first class promenade stopped and looked around in alarm – and flung herself across the three feet of space between them with enough force to send them both sprawling. This time though, Charles was ready for her without falling over backwards on impact.

"You're absolutely out of your mind Charles," Elsie gasped. She cupped Charles' face in both hands and kissed him hard and fast, relishing the fact that she was free to do so.

"Completely, totally out of your mind." She murmured.

"Probably," Charles agreed, "But do you know? I'm starting to think I'm all right with that."

There was hardly a hair's breadth between them - when the moment was effectively broken by all hundred and twenty some-odd pounds of Anika - who came hurtling at them from out of the shadows. She flung her arms around the hapless pair and promptly put to rest all of Elsie's fears of this being a dream by squeezing her so hard that her ribs creaked. Anika seemed to have lost all powers of coherent speech and so settled for squealing gleefully at them, jumping up and down, and then bursting into tears.

From a few feet away Genevieve intoned. "Yer lucky I was able te hold her back that long," She ambled up to the group, trying to keep from grinning and failing miserably. "She'd had her way she'd've jumped on the pair o' ye ten minutes ago."

"Christ, how long have you been hiding there?" Elsie asked bemusedly, attempting to pry a now openly weeping Anika off of her neck.

"Dunno. Not terribly long," Genevieve said with a shrug and a sly grin. "Enough time te hear ye pop the question though."

"Ah," Elsie said weakly, as Anika gave a fresh wail that sounded like a cross between a shriek of joy and a sob. "Oi, Anika, get a hold of yourself, you're soaking my blouse!"

"Sorry!" Anika squeaked, relinquishing her choke hold on Elsie and sniffing theatrically, "I'm just so happy for you two!"

"Oh is that what's wrong with you, then?" Charles said, looking as though he couldn't decide whether to be amused or terrified, "I thought maybe you were having some sort of fit."

Elsie couldn't help herself; she took one look at Charles' face and started to laugh. At that point it was impossible to react any other way, especially given how Anika was still bouncing from Elsie to Charles and back again as though someone had spring-loaded her boots. When she heard Elsie laughing and caught sight of Charles' bemused expression, Anika stopped flitting back and forth and looked sheepish.

"Sorry, sorry," She repeated, "It's just… I can't help it; I'm so terribly excited."

Giggling helplessly, Elsie grabbed her exuberant friend by both hands and said, "Don't ever change Anika, we love you just as you are."

Anika beamed and threw her arms around Elsie again. "Oh I'm glad," She said earnestly. She let go of Elsie, bounded over to give Charles another hug, and then grabbed Genevieve and embraced her as well, just for good measure. "You three are the greatest friends a girl could ever want. And I'm so glad that the two of you are gonna get married, it's just grand."

"Can't say as I disagree," Charles said with a casual shrug, and a little sideways smile that made Elsie's heart jump.

"I knew you liked her more than just a friend." Anika said dreamily, "But Elsie didn't believe me."

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Oh, didn't she?" He asked, just a touch smugly.

Elsie spread her hands wide and shrugged. "She stands corrected."

This comment was greeted by laughter, and some more jumping up and down from Anika, who then launched into a lengthy tangent about how she had always had a sixth sense about these sorts of things, complete with a dramatic re-enactment of the time she had guessed that her cousin was in love with the butcher. Elsie watched this enthusiastic telling with a sort of helpless bewilderment until Genevieve sidled up next to her.

"So…" Genevieve said in a low voice as Anika chattered on obliviously, "Are ye happy?"

Elsie looked at the dark-haired girl in surprise. "Sure I am," she replied with a smile, "This is… well… this is more than I ever dreamed."

Genevieve nodded, a strange knowing look in her eyes, as though she was privy to some unspoken secret. "I suppose it is. Things're gonna work out just fine fer ye now, aren't they?"

"I think so?" Elsie said, her puzzlement at Genevieve's expression turned the statement into more of a question. She tilted her head to one side and observed her friend for a moment, trying to read her eyes. "Genevieve, what are you thinking?"

"Nothin'," Genevieve said quickly. She gazed at Elsie for a long while, that same thoughtful look on her face. Elsie had the distinct feeling that Genevieve had something important to say and that she was toying with how to say it. Finally, she blinked and shook her head.

"Ye know, I'm awful glad fer ye," Genevieve said, smiling in a way that was almost shy, "I don't flounce around cryin' like Anika, but I'm still awful glad."

Elsie was touched. She grabbed one of Genevieve's hands in both of her own and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you."

"Sure," Genevieve said, looking playful once more, "An' we better be invited te the weddin'."

Anika – who had just concluded her story with a triumphant "And after they cleaned all the mud outta the bed, they were happier than anyone I ever saw!" – overheard this statement and promptly forgot about whatever point it was she had been trying to make and bounded over to them both. "Ooooh, are we?" She asked, her voice an excited chirp.

Elsie laughed. "Of course! We wouldn't dream of getting married without the two of you there. Isn't that right, Charles?"

Charles, looking a little shell-shocked in the aftermath of Anika's tale, managed a crooked smile. "Sounds fine to me."

"Oh it'll be the most beautiful wedding ever," Anika breathed. She looked so rapturous that Elsie didn't have the heart to tell her that the ceremony was likely to be rather on the small side. Of course, Elsie mused, Anika would probably think it was beautiful no matter what kind of a ceremony they had.

"I'm going to make you the nicest wedding present too, something real pretty," Anika continued, beaming as no human had ever beamed before. She crept up close to Elsie and added in a stage whisper. "You can wear it on the wedding night."

Elsie turned violently crimson and inhaled so sharply that she started to choke. Charles pretended not to have heard. Genevieve, for her part, clapped one hand over her mouth and looked properly scandalised.

"And on that charmin' note, I think it's best I get this one out o' yer hair 'fore she does permanent damage," She said shaking her head.

"Maybe that's a good idea," Elsie said, still rather pink in the face, but starting to grin now.

Genevieve nodded, and then did a very un-Genevieve like thing: she wrapped her arms around Elsie and gave her a quick, hard hug, then did the same to Charles.

"G'night, you two," she said, with another sheepish smile. Elsie was so surprised that she didn't know how to respond. Genevieve grabbed a happily oblivious Anika and began to tug her towards the stairs. "C'mon girl, let's leave the lovebirds be, aye?"

Anika pouted a little, but followed Genevieve gamely enough. "All right," She agreed, "Night Elsie! Night Charles! We'll talk tomorrow!"

Elsie and Charles both waved good bye and watched them disappear down the stairs in silence.

After a beat, Charles said. "Why is it I come out of every conversation with Anika feeling like I've gone through a clothes wringer?"

Elsie giggled and leaned against him. Charles immediately snugged one arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

"Apparently she's excited." Elsie said, with a mischievous grin.

"You don't say?" Charles replied, smirking. Elsie laughed softly and rested her head against his shoulder.

"Everything's going to be just fine," Charles repeated and flashed Elsie a bemused smile.

In spite of herself, Elsie huffed a small laugh. "I suppose so," She agreed, and wrapped her hands around herself, searching for more warmth.

"Are you cold?" Charles asked, seeing how her jaw had started to shiver.

"No, not at all," Elsie replied untruthfully. For the first time in a while, she noticed how cold it was; her breath was pluming in front of her with every word. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, "I'm perfectly fine."

"Well, you didn't say that very convincingly." Charles said and considered it for a moment.

By the way his eyebrows had knitted together, Elsie got the impression that this thought hadn't occurred to him yet. After a minute or two, he said, "I think I shall get you back below before you freeze to death." He continued, "And also I have to go and finish something in Lord Grantham's room. Here I lost the track of time."

Elsie pouted; she didn't want the night to end, not in the slightest. Still, she could hardly argue about the temperature, which seemed to have dropped several degrees in only the last few minutes. Even standing so close to Charles as she was, his body heat could no longer even begin to cut the chill in the air.

"It's awful cold, isn't it?" Elsie said reluctantly, finally confessing, "Guess I ought to let you walk me to my cabin. But let's walk slow, alright?"

"I can manage that," Charles said solicitously.

He offered Elsie a hand, which she used to pull and put his arm around her shoulders. They walked the whole way like that, with Elsie tucked securely against the side of Charles' body. They didn't talk – there was nothing that either of them needed to say – they simply just enjoyed being close to one another. Elsie felt as though everything had suddenly tumbled into place; Charles was the piece of herself that she hadn't even realised was missing. She felt whole, and safe, and utterly, rapturously happy.

At the door to Elsie's cabin, they both stopped and looked at each other, momentarily at a loss for words. Feeling Charles' bemused expression mirrored on her own face, Elsie almost laughed. She supposed they were both thinking the same thing: after a night like the one they'd just had, how was a simple 'good night' supposed to suffice?

"So… we're engaged now, isn't that something?" Charles finally said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

At this Elsie did laugh. "The world is a strange and marvellous place," she agreed. She felt her grin slip a little and she shook her head slowly, "Part of me still can hardly believe it.

"It's finally real, Els." Charles said softly, tucking the stray curl behind her ear.

Elsie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "All right then," she said, once she was sure she had control of her voice. She touched his cheek with the back of one hand, "G'night Charles,"

He kissed her one more time, just long enough to ensure that her legs turned to rubber and smiled. "G'night. See you in the morning."

Elsie watched him go, leaning heavily against the door frame for balance. She remained there for a few minutes after Charles was out of sight, smiling dreamily to herself. After a while she let herself into the darkened room, moving quietly so as not to wake Fabrizio. Elsie thought she would most likely just lie in bed awake until morning; her mind and body were thrumming so vigorously she couldn't imagine being able to fall asleep. If she did sleep however, Elsie decided as she changed into her nightdress, her dreams were bound to be very sweet indeed. How could they not be when she had so much to look forward to?

* * *

 _Thanks as always to those who read and reviewed the chapter! Reviews make me squeal with glee, much in the manner of Anika. No really, they do._


	21. The Calm Before

**A/N:** _Hello? It's me... I've been wondering if after all this time you'd like to read?_ Alright, ripping off Adele aside, I AM here and have NOT abandoned the story. Far from it. Also thank you for nice messages and reviews on the last chapter - it's been a really rough few months for me and each one of your reviews felt like a hug or a pat of encouragement, so thank you - they mean the world. However, I'm back and I hope you enjoy this long awaited chapter.

And big thanks goes to **Courtland** for her patience, and super beta powers.

* * *

 **CHAPTER XXI**

 ** _The Calm Before_**

 **14, April 1912;**

And after all this time Robert still held his wife close to him. He held her hand gently as they finally made their way up to the top deck. He pulled her out into the open; there was no light except for a few lanterns further away. The weather remained clear, but it was a moonless night, only the stars adored the dark sky above them.

He pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her softly on the lips. In response, Cora wrapped her hands around his neck and kissed him back passionately. Robert pulled away all too soon. They spent an immeasurable amount of time just staring into each other's eyes.

Robert took a breath and grudgingly broke the comfortable silence, "You should have told me earlier, you know."

Cora's face held both surprise and disapproval, "I know," She began quietly, her hands wrapping around his waist, "I just didn't know how to say it. I thought you were going to leave or be angry."

Cora knew her face portrayed hurt because he kissed her softly again and rested his forehead against hers. He smiled softly, "Silly, Cora. There's nothing that could make me leave you. I will always be with you."

Cora smiled genuinely and hugged herself closer to him, taking in his warmth. He ran his fingers through her tangled hair, "We'll figure something out. We always do." He promised consolingly.

Cora grinned against his chest and they drifted back into a comfortable silence for a few more minutes. Nothing mattered anymore. He was here next to her and he knew everything now. The feeling of fear vanished and all that was left there was pure and genuine love. Cora felt calm and carefree, snuggled against his chest and listening to his steady breathing as he continued to stoke her back gently.

Cora wasn't sure how long she planned on standing there upon the deck in the freezing cold, clinging to Robert for balance like a drunken fool with a dopey smile plastered across her face, but she certainly wasn't in any hurry to go elsewhere - this was something they didn't tell you in stories, Cora reflected rather giddily - after the grand confession, the happy couple spent the next five minutes staring at each other and grinning like idiots.

Actually, if she was being perfectly honest, Cora felt absurdly afraid that if she made any sudden movements, the whole scene would dissolve, turn out to be a particularly vivid dream. She had never expected a happy ending, at least, not one like this. She was so happy it scared her a little.

Robert touched her cheek with the back of one hand, "What are you thinking, darling?"

Cora laughed, a residual bit of bewilderment clinging to the sound, and shook her head, "I'm thinking that maybe I'm dreaming," She replied with a lopsided grin, even though she didn't think her imagination could conjure up the way her skin flamed where he touched her, or the shiver that travelled the length of her spine; one that had absolutely nothing to do with the cold.

"Oh really?" Robert said, beaming at her. Cora had not been previously aware that Robert was capable of beaming at anyone, but he had proved her wrong so often already that this discovery was hardly surprising. "And is there any way I can convince you that you're not?" He asked, twining his fingers through her hair.

Arching one eyebrow, Cora said, "Oh, I suppose I could think of a way or two."

"I suppose you could," Robert agreed solemnly, leaning in a little closer.

He was absolutely ready to lock his lips with hers...until he saw an unrecognisable shadow in the corner of his icy eyes. To Cora's disappointment, Robert raised his head up again and his eyes widened, taking in the scene in front of his eyes.

" _Cora_..." Robert whispered softly, his voice barely audible. Noticing the weird intonation of his voice, Cora instantly lifted her head to meet his eyes, but they weren't focused on her. His gaze was wandering somewhere in the darkness behind her, fixed on something so hard he didn't even blink and his mouth suddenly fell open.

"Cora, stay close, _hold tight_!" His strong voice ripped through the cold thin air and echoed in the distance. It seemed like he wanted to say something more, but the words never came out of his mouth.

Right at the loss of words the ship gave out a sudden, violent jerk and the next thing Cora knew was that she was losing her balance. Everything shook all around her and bright blue eyes filled with fear as another whimper escaped through tightly clenched lips. The world started to spin mercilessly inside of Cora's head as her knees gave up, and she found herself falling. Robert strongly grabbed her waist with one hand and caught her wrist with his other; just in time before her body could smash against the deck. Robert seemed to have no problem keeping his balance as he pulled her to his chest tightly.

Cora gripped Robert's coat as the ship continued to shake violently and she cried out in fright. Robert carefully squeezed her to him, his grip around her became even more firm. In that moment, Cora was beyond thankful for Robert's strength; otherwise she was sure she would be on the ground again, presumably mildly injured.

Cora suddenly heard him take a sharp intake of breath as the various sounds grew louder and louder around them. Cora felt herself fill with anxiety and began to rigorously search for some kind of excuse to account for the shuddering ship. She slowly turned her head and gasped, the cold catching in her throat. The ship was still vibrating with brutal shivers as a giant mountain of ice passed next to them. Suddenly, there was a horrible screeching; a low guttural sound of something harsh tearing down the cold metal of the Titanic as it groaned. It reached Cora's ears - the sounds so powerful that the brutal pitch of it was almost painful. Without even thinking, Cora covered her ears in fear.

Robert held her tightly to his side and pulled her backward away from the monstrous iceberg that loomed high above them. The pole to the crow's-nest hit a chunk of ice and large pieces the size of cinderblocks fell onto the deck right where the couple had been standing moments before.

Cora tried her best to keep the tears at bay as her face reddened in indignation and then paled alarmingly as she sagged against her husband's body beside her. For a moment she struggled to regain her composure and then her eyes widened - there was a cracking sound coming from high above them, and she was terrified that larger chunks of ice would fall right on top of them. Time seemed to stop as the ship grinded its way past the iceberg.

Finally, the shuddering ceased and all became deadly quiet once more. The mountain faded away into the distance, but her grip didn't loosen, neither did Robert's. Cora watched the fading iceberg with the most intimidating death glare she could muster given her weakened state. Moments later, dozens of people started to appear on deck. Some just looked around in amazement at all of the ice that lay scattered upon the deck - gasping at their sharp, jagged edges - while others ran to the railing to get a better look at the iceberg diminishing into the distance.

Robert gently took her hands and loosened his grip slightly before holding her face close to his, "Are you alright?" He asked anxiously.

She breathed in a shuddering breath and nodded, not trusting her voice. Robert stood motionless for a few moments before his gaze turned fearfully toward the bridge where crewmen were frantically running down the stairs in different directions.

"Thank God you're all right Cora, we're all right. We're safe now."

After another long moment, Cora was able to speak, but to her horror her attempt at a low deadly tone was alternately squeaky and hoarse.

Robert focused his attention back to Cora and kissed her lightly on the forehead, which took her by surprise. He pulled away and firmly wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Come on love," he said, a seriousness seeping through the tone of his voice.

Cora's arms encircled his waist as she pulled herself closer to him. He rushed her inside and toward the main staircase - Cora was still too shocked and frightened to make sense of where he was taking her. They finally made it to the bottom of the first level and Cora spotted Rosamund and Patrick rushing towards them.

They didn't seem frightened. _Why would they need to be?_ They weren't in any real danger. But they still remained deadly serious.

"Cora, Robert," Patrick greeted them quickly, and threw a slight smile in Cora's direction to acknowledge her hurriedly before his attention turned back to Robert, "We need to talk," he said calmly, but his eyes reflected fear.

Robert seemed to understand the message and immediately nodded his head, turning towards Cora.

"Darling, why don't you and Rosamund go to our stateroom. I'll be there as soon as I can, but first we have to see what's going on here."

Rosamund smiled down at her caringly, but Cora flinched away toward Robert, "Please, take care."

Robert kissed her forehead, "I won't be long, I promise. But you need to go, now."

There was no mistaking the commanding authority in his voice; Cora let out a dry sigh as Rosamund put her arm around Cora's shoulders and started to pull her to the elevators. Robert turned his attention immediately to Patrick and the two of them vanished behind the stairs.

"It'll be alright, dear," Rosamund said while she rubbed Cora's back comfortingly. Cora leaned into her, grateful for the reassurance. She closed her eyes for a moment and squeezed Rosamund's hand more tightly, longing to feel the woman's embrace but too proud to ask for it, or to initiate the contact herself.

They reached the stateroom in only five minutes. They sat on the couch and stayed silent for a while. Rosamund rubbed Cora's back, continuing to comfort her but still she didn't speak, mildly afraid to make any small talk. Cora waited anxiously for the door to open announcing Robert's return.

Rosamund brushed a stray caramel curl behind Cora's ear as she stood up, heading towards the door, "I'm just going to-" Unable to finish her thought, Cora's face darkened, "Oh, you're leaving..."

The broken, whispered ' _of course_ ' that followed silently spurred Rosamund to voice what she was feeling in a much harsher tone than she had originally intended, wanting Cora to listen and understand what she was trying to say. "No, I'm not."

Rosamund then gave her a sympathetic look and took her previous place next to Cora. "I'm staying right here." Rosamund continued calmly and Cora nodded vaguely, her eyes still closed as she continued to fight against the rising panic inside of her.

Her legs and body failed her and it seemed her mouth was too as her lower lip started to quiver. Rosamund could see the unspoken need in Cora's eyes and sensed her struggle for words. She slipped an arm around the slender waist of her sister-in-law, lightly nudging Cora, showing her that she could tell her anything.

"I-I wanted to tell you earlier, but... t-there was always something in the way." Cora spoke softly, regulating her breathing.

She fixed her eyes to Rosamund - the broken blue gaze hauntingly searching for comfort as Cora felt her hands instinctively flutter gently over her abdomen. "The circumstances were never quite good..." Her voice trailed off again and a gentle sigh left her lips. Rosamund's eyes winded and locked onto Cora's hands as they continued to gently rest against her midsection.

"Wait," Rosamund murmured, but her lips curled into a tight smile, "Are you..."

Right after those words were spoken, the door slowly opened. The women jumped apart expecting Robert, but a steward made his way into the room instead. He smiled at the redhead who looked as though she had just seen a ghost, and at the brunette whose features revealed disappointment.

"Excuse me madams, but I have come to inform you to quickly put your lifebelts on and head up to the boat's deck. There's no need to worry, it's just a precaution." The man said calmly, looking untroubled as he quickly left the room, but kept the door wide open. There were people outside hurrying down the hallway toward the stairs.

Cora closed her eyes in disappointment before she felt a pair of warm arms encircling her waist. She opened her eyes, and when she looked up it was into her love's eyes, they were watching her fondly, and although there was worry there, they were dark and pooled with unfathomable love - _I fell in love with your eyes_ she thought, _so I'll love you forever_. It was an absurd thought but she smiled in relief and buried her face into his jacket.

Robert kissed the top of her head and wordlessly led her into their bedroom. He reached up into the top shelf of the closet and pulled out two white lifejackets. Before Cora could protest, he was already buckling it around her. He still hadn't said a word and his face was unreadable as he led her back into the main room. Robert handed the other one to Rosamund, with the nod of his head he told her that he was alright with her having it instead; that he would manage to find another.

Cora was fed up with the silence and she sharply grabbed Robert's arm and turned him to face her. "What's going on Robert?" Cora asked warningly. "I know something bad has happened, I can see it in your eyes. Please, just tell us."

"Please..." Rosamund added sheepishly, her voice uncertain.

Robert sighed and pulled Cora into his warm embrace; he pulled away after only a few moments. "Cora, I won't let anything happen to you two," he said, turning his gaze to his sister.

Rosamund nodded for him to continue, though she dreaded his next sentence. He looked back deeply into Cora's bright eyes, he could see fear radiating throughout them.

"The ship is going to sink." He murmured into thin air, "All of this will be at the bottom of the ocean in at least two hours, three if we're lucky." Robert's eyes wandered around the room, taking in once more the splendid interior. His heart ached knowing that this all would be under the dark, dark sea in just a little while.

Cora's eyes widened as she let the information sink in. There were only about two dozen lifeboats on this ship. And there had to be over two thousand passengers. _Oh god, what had happened?_

Cora looked up and saw that Robert's jaw was tightly clenched. "We need to..." He trailed off, suddenly wordless.

"I need to first take care of you," He stated abruptly, "You need to board a lifeboat as soon as possible." Robert continued seriously, though the ends of his lips curled into a small smile, "For yours and the baby's safety."

Rosamund, still not used to the idea of the baby, clapped her hands together with pure happiness; she let the feeling overwhelm her for the couple in front of her. Though the circumstances weren't ideal, there was still so much to look forward to.

There was a knock on the doorframe and a steward poked his head in, "I'm so sorry to rush you, sir, but you and the ladies must be getting up to the deck now."

Robert released Cora from his firm grip and rushed back into their bedroom. Cora followed slowly and stood in the doorway, all of this still felt surreal to her. Robert grabbed one of his layered coats and rushed to the safe, shoving a few of their belongings into the deep pockets. He was behind Cora in the next second, slipping the coat onto her.

"Rosamund, go to your room and dress as warmly as you can. Take only what is needed. We'll meet you on the deck in ten minutes." Robert said hurriedly as he shoved a few small bobbles of his own into his pockets from his dresser; then he was by Rosamund's side before she could even blink.

"Please, take care and be as fast as you can." Robert said with eyes full of emotion as he looked down at his sister. Not being able to resist, Rosamund flung her arms around her brother and lightly kissed him on the cheek before letting go.

"I'll hurry, don't worry." Rosamund muttered, clearing her throat.

The sudden change in atmosphere was abrupt and harsh, the air became tense and seemed to compress making Rosamund's eyes water. Before anyone could start to notice her silently wrecked state, she excused herself from the room, leaving her brother and sister-in-law behind.

Robert stared at the door for another minute. The love he felt toward his sister was indescribable. She was his ride or die, always the troubled one, and always so full of love towards him. He couldn't imagine his life without the fiery redhead.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt Cora wrapping an arm around him and in response he slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her out of the room into the hall. There was silence between them because their emotions and actions already spoke such volumes. Robert pulled her down the hall while trying to dodge people running toward the deck.

They made it up the stairs and out onto the main staircase. The change was strange, it was almost as though they had walked through a doorway into another dimension, somewhere separate and detached from the horror that was crushing in around them. Where the hallway had been panicky and anxious, the main staircase was calm with the band playing nearby. They could have almost believed they were merely taking a stroll to the deck - but there was no mistaking the weird tangled reality that hung in the air surrounding them.

Robert pulled Cora out onto the deck, carefully overlooking her every step. There were barely any people outside, and the cold air suddenly hit Cora's body making her shiver violently.

The lifeboats were only just starting to be put into their stations. "Robert? Cora?" She heard a voice calling them from behind. She turned around and came face to face with James and Patrick.

"I'm so glad to see that you made it through this crowd." Patrick admitted sincerely while Cora stared at them in surprise as he suddenly put his arm on Cora's back. In response, Cora threw a sympathetic look in his direction, not quite sure what she was supposed to do. Robert backed away slightly, but never relinquished his hold on his wife's waist.

Patrick stared into the distance, looking at the boats that were being easily lowered, "Oh, Cora, come now, we need to get you into the boat."

Suddenly there was a shrill cry of, "Women and children only," from the nearest boat. Cora turned around and saw that there was a sudden flood of people coming outside; all lining up and patiently waiting for a boat, there was no rush, everyone was calm for now.

"Patrick's right, you have to go now." Robert said as he tried to urge Cora to go to the lifeboat, but it seemed like she was sealed to the ground. She didn't move one inch.

"Robert!" Cora took a sharp intake of breath and tugged him by his coat, "I've forgotten something down in the room. I must go back and get it."

"Nonsense Cora. It's not important, it's too late now anyways. We have to get you onto the boat." Robert said calmly, rubbing the trembling shoulders of his wife soothingly, he pressed his lips to the soft crown of her caramel strands and rested his cheek against them.

"No, Robert, it's important and it's not too late yet. We still have plenty of time. There's no rush." Cora protested and Robert took her smaller hand into his bigger one pulling her toward the boat against her will. Cora somewhat managed to pull herself free of his grasp, but to her shock Patrick pushed her from behind urging her to follow her husband. Cora looked up at him and saw his adamant gestures as he motioned for her to follow.

"No, no, I'll be fast, I promise. And we're still waiting for Rosamund anyway." Cora practically pleaded now while she tried to slow down their pace as much as she could.

Cora stared at them for a moment and tried to back away, but Robert prevented her from doing so. His hands grabbed her waist from behind and pushed her forward, "Cora," he said quietly, "Get in the boat."

Cora whipped her head around and stared at her husband's blue eyes, they were calm, but his posture was tense. "No!" She cried out and stopped their pace altogether.

"You really are a stubborn one, aren't you?" Robert flashed a half smile in her direction, and shook his head lightly.

"You know me, can't help myself." Cora managed to genuinely smile back at him and crossed her arms against her chest. "So, are you coming down with me or what?" Cora rolled her eyes playfully.

Although he was watching her from the corner of his eye, Robert was glad that she managed to keep herself so calm in a situation like this. It was as though she truly believed this wasn't a big deal; that it was just a false alarm.

Robert's face contorted with annoyance as he huffed loudly, finally, under his breath Robert said, "Let's go then, and we better hurry."

* * *

What woke Elsie was not a pleasant dream or the stirrings of her cabin mates. What woke her was a sound, a sound like nothing she had ever heard before. It was a horrible noise; a crunching, scraping, grinding cacophony that reverberated throughout the cabin like Armageddon.

Elsie lurched upright in bed, narrowly avoiding knocking herself unconscious on the cabin ceiling. She had been asleep for maybe half an hour, and was so disoriented by this sudden jolt into wakefulness, that for an instant, she wondered if she had imagined hearing anything at all. But no, Elsie could see Fabrizio sitting upright in the opposite bunk to her as well, a tense, dark silhouette against the white wall.

Kicking her legs free of the tangled bed sheets, Elsie half-climbed, half-fell down the ladder from her bunk. She plucked her threadbare dressing gown from its place on the wall hooks and threw it around her shoulders. The terrible noise had stopped, replaced by a silence that made Elsie's ears ring. Where was the ever-present hum of the engines, the constant sounds of gears, the pistons, the parting ocean? Elsie threw open the cabin door and burst into the hallway.

All up and down the corridor, doors were opening and bleary-eyed women were peeking out into the hall. Questions and exclamations in every language imaginable echoed throughout the eerily quiet air. The door across the hall from Elsie's opened and Genevieve appeared, dressed only in her heavy flannel nightgown and looking more tousled than Elsie had ever seen her.

"What is it?" Genevieve exclaimed, hurrying to Elsie's side. Both hands were clasped against her chest and she was shivering, "What's goin' on?"

Elsie wrapped her dressing gown tighter around her body and shook her head, "I don't know," she scanned the rapidly filling hallway for any sign of the crewman or a steward. A few men were beginning to appear on the scene, having made their way from the forward dormitories to search for the women they were travelling with. "There was that horrible scrapin' noise and then we just stopped."

"What?" Genevieve laid one hand against the wall, seeking the familiar rumble of the ship vibrating through the wood panels, "Holy God, you're right!" She gave Elsie a wide-eyed look, "What does that mean? Why would we stop?"

"I'm sure I don't know," Elsie replied.

Anika had joined them in the hall now, a knitted sweater pulled over her night clothes, her blond hair matted to her head with sleep. Fabrizio too was hovering near Elsie's right side, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His blue eyes were enormous with confusion as he tried to grasp what was being said. Elsie tried to explain, wishing that she had tried to learn a bit more Italian other than "hello", "goodbye" and "how are you". Finally Elsie grabbed her roommate's hand and pressed it to the doorjamb so that Fabrizio could feel how the vibrations had stopped. He seemed to understand on some level, and he nodded gratefully before returning to the room.

"It can't be anything real bad, can it?" Anika said fretfully, twisting the hem of her sweater in both hands.

Before anyone could answer, a sudden ruckus at the aft end of the corridor caught the crowd's attention. A pair of white-coated stewards had appeared and began pounding on any doors still left unopened, bellowing for everyone to wake up.

"Everyone up and out of bed!" One of the pair hollered roughly, banging his fist against a closed cabin door. Several women ducked into their rooms as they approached, not understanding the language and wishing to avoid being seen by such a rough and unpleasant fellow while dressed only in their night things.

"Third class is to gather fore and aft of the Well Deck. Bring your life preservers and wait there for further instructions!"

Elsie felt her heart leap into her throat. Life preservers? Surely not; this had to be some sort of mistake, a drill perhaps. Genevieve gave out a weak little yelp at the news and was now clutching Elsie's arm in an almost painful grip.

"Why d'we need those?" She breathed in a hoarse whisper, her fingers digging harder into Elsie's skin. "What's happened that we need those?"

"Maybe it's nothing," Elsie said, trying to sound sure of herself and doing a terrible job of it, "Maybe it's just…"

" _Elsie_!"

All three women turned as one, for once failing to see the humour in the situation. Charles had evidently managed to fight his way back from where he was and hastened towards them.

"Charles!" Elsie pulled her arm free of Genevieve's vice-like hold and ran to meet him. She grabbed him by the wrists, immediately reassured by his presence. "Charles, what the hell's happening?" She demanded breathlessly, "They're telling us to put our life vests on!"

Charles looked anxious, his mouth drawn into a grim line, his eyebrows knitted together. He pulled Elsie closer, tugging one hand out of her grip and placing it protectively against the small of her back.

"I think we hit something," he said, his voice dark with worry.

Anika gave a squeak of fear, "What're we s'posed to do now then?" she asked, hugging herself for warmth and comfort.

The stewards had almost reached them now, but became occupied by trying to explain to a frustrated-sounded French man and his wife that they needed to dress and put on their life belts. Charles eyed them, then decided that they weren't likely to be much help.

"I'll go upstairs and have a look," he said, releasing his hold on Elsie with some reluctance, "Stay here," he ordered.

He needn't have bothered. Charles only took two steps before one of the white-uniformed men blocked his path, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Upstairs to see what's going on," Charles said incredulously, looking as though he would have liked to punch the man in the nose, "Where do you think?"

"You'll stay here like you're told," The steward snapped, sounding more agitated and impatient than outright belligerent, "And for God's sake, get your bloody life preservers on!"

Charles opened his mouth to make a retort, but Elsie grabbed the back of his shirt.

"Don't Charles, there's no use fighting," she pleaded. Several other men had rushed at the steward now, demanding answers in various languages. The situation had the potential to turn ugly at any moment and Elsie wanted Charles to keep well out of the way of it. She pulled him back from the crowd.

"Please Charles, come on, we'll find a way up without them."

"All right," Charles turned and looked at her, his expression a mixture of anger and anxiety. Elsie pressed herself closer to him, her fingers from both hands hooked into the material of his shirt.

"All right Els, go into your cabin and get your life belt. Get dressed too, into something warm, I think."

"Where're you going?" Elsie demanded, clutching him tighter.

"Back to the boys cabin; someone there might know something," Charles said, gently attempting to pry her fingers loose, "it won't take but a couple of minutes."

Elsie shook her head vigorously, "No, no, Charles you can't leave…"

Charles wrapped his hands around one of hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze, "I'll be fine. I'll meet you at the aft staircase, alright? Now go on, take the others and get dressed, quickly Elsie," he kissed the top of her head, "I'll be back in no time, you'll see."

Though still clearly unimpressed with the idea, Elsie allowed Charles to let go of her. She watched him disappear into the crowd, chewing her lip uncertainly. Finally, Elsie turned back to the other girls. They were hovering a few meters away, looking at her expectantly. Elsie hurried over to them, untying the belt of her dressing gown as she did so.

"Where's Charles goin'?" Anika asked, looking Elsie up and down as though searching for signs of imminent separation anxiety.

"Back to the boys cabin," Elsie replied, keeping her voice as calm as possible, "He's going to meet us at the staircase," She pushed open her cabin door and gestured for her friends to return to their own rooms, "Right now get dressed warm and put on your life vests, quick as you can."

In her room, Elsie found Fabrizio leaning heavily against the rounded window, his body visibly shaking. When Elsie entered, he looked at her with clear relief, as though he somehow sensed that she had some idea of what to do. Elsie didn't waste time trying to mime out instructions; she simply grabbed the coats from their hooks and thrust the garment into his arms.

"Here," Elsie said, digging two life preservers out from underneath the bunks, "Take these too."

Taking only a moment to see that her roommate understood, Elsie began gathering up her own clothes. She pulled on stockings and bloomers but otherwise chose to skip worrying about the rest of her finicky underclothes. Instead, she pulled her skirt on over her night gown and then, after a moment, selected the never-worn blouse Anna had given her as a going away present and put it on too. Somehow saving it to wear for her arrival in New York no longer seemed important.

Just as Elsie was throwing on her coat, the door flew open and Anika and Genevieve piled into the room. Neither were near as layered as Elise was, having apparently done nothing more than put on stockings and sweaters. Anika had put on her cheerfully coloured beret, but neither girl wore gloves.

Elsie eyed them speculatively, "Are you dressed warm enough then?" She was trying to secure her hat, but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn't work the pins.

Genevieve looked down at her coat - the only article of clothing she had put on over her nightdress – and heavy wool stockings. "How warm d'ye figure we need te be?" She demanded, her voice shriller than normal.

"I don't know!" Elsie snapped, finally giving up on her hat and tossing it onto one of the bunks; with any luck she would be back for it later, "How should I know? If you feel warm enough then I guess you are!"

"Don't yell, Elsie," Anika pleaded, looking very small and pale in all her light-coloured clothing, "Please don't yell. We need to all help each other."

Elsie pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, pressing her free hand to her chest. It wasn't fair to get annoyed; none of them had any idea what was going on, or what they needed to do. Elsie herself was just obeying Charles' instructions.

"I'm sorry, you're right," She said, opening her eyes. She checked the ties on her life preserver, "Are you all ready then?"

A chastised looking Genevieve answered for everyone, "Alright, we're ready, let's go."

Hand in hand they hurried away from their cabins, Elsie in the lead, Anika and Genevieve bringing up the rear. There was mass confusion in the corridors. The majority of the steerage passengers did not speak English so they had no idea what was going on. Even those of the third class travellers who could understand the instructions of the stewards were in turmoil, demanding answers, looking for loved ones, even just trying to decide where to go.

The air was full of confusion and fear was a tangible thing, being passed from person to person like a spark of static electricity. Elsie dragged her friends past group after group of frightened, uncertain passengers, many of whom she had become familiar with. The entire Sage family, all eleven of them, were huddled against one wall; the little ones clinging to their older siblings' hands while their parents discussed their next course of action. Elsie wondered if anyone really knew what was happening.

Elsie told herself over and over that it couldn't be serious, not really and truly dire. Even if the ship had collided with something – and Elsie's gut instinct told her that it had – the Titanic was supposed to be unsinkable. Everybody knew that. The life jackets were just a precaution, the crew following procedure, not an actual indication of danger. How could they be in any real danger on an unsinkable ship?

This thought would have provided some comfort if Elsie's little group had not chosen that moment to run head long into a steward coming down the hallway from the forward decks. The man was moving quickly, paying little attention to where he was going, and he very nearly sent Elsie flying when he ran into her.

There was a moment of confusion as they righted themselves and babbled apologies. The steward regained his composure first, giving the gaggle of women a once over and saying, "Good, life belts, excellent. Get to the Well Deck now, will you?" His voice was brusque, business-like and vaguely distracted. He hurried off without a backward glance.

Elsie watched him leave, feeling suddenly very shaky and breathless. Just before the Steward had snapped back into his formal demeanour, Elsie had caught a glimpse of something unsettling in his eyes, something that all the formal training in the world couldn't mask. She wasn't entirely sure, but if Elsie had to put a name to the look, she would have said that it was fear. The man was afraid. The crew knew better than the passengers what was going on, and if they were frightened…

"All right," Elsie said, "Let's get a move on, okay?" She pulled her friends forward again, and if anyone in the group noticed that Elsie had almost doubled her pace, not one of them was about to question her.

* * *

 **Send me some love because my muse needs some inspiration and creativity after being shut away in some dusty corner for months. So review and let me know how you think the story is going, because it is going, I promise!**


End file.
